Body of Christ
by Belladonna and TheFictionFreak
Summary: She was clearly in pain. She clearly needed help. How could I deny her? How could I ignore the distress of a child of God? I couldn't. And that was my downfall. Some drama, some laughs, plenty of UST. BxE AH AU of the spiritual kind
1. Prologue

**The Prologue**

**Father Cullen**

_Soul of Christ, sanctify me_

_Body of Christ, save me_

_Blood of Christ, inebriate me_

_Water from Christ's side, wash me_

_Passion of Christ, strengthen me_

_O good Jesus, hear me_

_Within Thy wounds hide me_

_Suffer me not to be separated from Thee_

_From the malicious enemy defend me_

_In the hour of my death call me_

_And bid me come unto Thee_

_That I may praise Thee with Thy saints_

_and with Thy angels_

_Forever and ever_

_Amen._

I stay, planted firmly in my seat, silent after quietly reciting the prayer to myself.

Head bowed. Reverent. Eyes closed. Hands folded.

Hoping. Praying.

Begging.

For her to stay away.

For her to come.

For these sinful thoughts to fade like clouds in the height of summer.

"_Father_." I'm urged to get up. To get going. To lead my congregation.

I manage to stand and make my way to the pulpit. I focus on breathing. I focus on the Gospel in front of me. I rehearse today's homily to myself. I listen to the murmurs of anticipation from the church members reverberate against the walls.

Do they know?

I steady my legs. I nod to the organ player and give the children in the choir a small grin.

Cautiously, I peer up at my parishioners. I'm filled with awe at their loyal attendance. At their faith in me to guide them through the week ahead. Their eagerness to listen to what I have to say. Their belief that I know what I'm talking about.

I have no idea what I'm talking about.

I thought I did.

But that was before.

My eyes glance around and stop… just there… front row, right side, five in.

My breathing ceases altogether as I take in the sight of her.

Jeans, t-shirt. Leather jacket.

Legs crossed. Hands by her sides. Eyes on me, lit with fire.

There is no friendly smile on her lips. No word of God in her hands. No shame in her reasons for being here.

And she is magnetic.

That look on her face. A simple dare in her silent rebellious expression.

I've forgotten my sermon all together.

I've forgotten my vows.

Promises made to men much holier than I. Promises to God.

I can't even remember what those promises were now.

I can only remember her.

Eyes, Lips, jaw, neck.

A whisper. A secret. Just between us. And God.

I let my eyes close for a moment.

Breasts.

Legs.

Heat.

I blink them open again.

_Fire_.

I'm pulled away from dark thoughts with a cough from the crowd. I tug at the collar around my neck, symbolizing my conviction, my position. My failures. It used to comfort me. Now it's suffocating.

And I see the looks on everyone's faces. Waiting, wondering, suspecting.

Fuck.

* * *

**_A/N: Prayers are not ours. They belong to the Catholic church. We're just borrowing them. As are we borrowing Stephenie Myers' characters. We'd also like to note that neither of us are Catholic but both have studied it a bit - Okay, Googled. A lot._**

**_This fic is brought to you by inspiration drawn directly from "Fleabag" and its hot fucking priest… and maybe Hades. A little bit. Please don't take it too seriously. And if you're Catholic, you may want to consider scheduling confession after each chapter._**

**_Many many thanks to SueBee for her beta skills, Chrisann for pre reading, Lizzie Paige for our inspiring banner and you all for reading._**

**_Chapter 1 will post on Friday. Hope we see you there._**


	2. Chapter 1 Penance

**Chapter 1. Penance**

**Father Cullen**

"Bless me father, for I have sinned. It's been a very long time since my last confession."

Her voice is low.

Disinterested.

And a bit harsh.

I have to believe if she was truly indifferent, she wouldn't be here. I can tell by the tone of her voice she's angry about something. The church? Her own actions? Someone else's?

Whatever it is, it's what brought her here. It's what's important.

I do this. Try to pinpoint the underlying emotions this confessional witnesses.

Sometimes it's a whisper, a subtlety to their words, or the way they deliver them, that tells me they need assistance in more ways than just a standard prayer asking for forgiveness.

This one, despite the simple memorized words she's recited, is screaming for it.

I've been a priest of the Catholic church for four years now. I've had my own congregation for one. I don't have the experience some of my elders do, granted, but many of them find confessions to be more of a necessary task than assistance for the downtrodden. They've grown immune to the empathy it requires. That _people _require.

"May the body of Christ be-"

"I'd like to preface this confession with the fact that I am here because my mother guilted me into it and _not _because I think I need _any _absolving _whatsoever _for anything I've done with my own life."

I'm not sure if I'm quiet because I'm stunned into silence or because I'm waiting to see if she's finished her thought.

"And if I may, it's slightly creepy to make someone sit in a dark, dank box and confess their secrets. I mean, what's the purpose anyway? If we wanted you to know them, they wouldn't be secrets. Right?"

I wait. There could be more.

"Hello?"

"Sorry. I didn't know if you were done."

She hesitates but then gives me a short, "I'm done." And I can almost envision her there, stubborn, crossed arms and all.

"Okay, first of all, please know, no one's forcing you to be here."

"Ha!"

"And secondly, the dark, dank box is a metaphor. I like to think of it as a place where people can keep their sins. Where others won't see. Or hear."

She's quiet again after that so I continue. "It's there to make _you _more comfortable confessing your _secrets_. But, if you'd like, we can take this out into the sanctuary for the entire congregation to hear. I'm open to suggestions."

"Um."

I shouldn't be smiling. But I enjoy stunning her into her own silence. I'm a bit competitive that way.

"Hello?" I call out when she doesn't respond.

A pin could drop for the next few moments. I'm pretty sure I hear her swallow and I'm beginning to second guess myself.

Anyone who's spent the past year getting used to my practices as a priest should know I have only the best intentions when I make light of this holy custom. But maybe she doesn't. Maybe she's not part of the congregation. I think I would have noticed her.

The silence is deafening. I may have overstepped and embarrassed her, changed her mind about being here.

I need to reconsider my sarcasm going forward. "I'm s-"

"I kissed my sister's fiancé," she blurts out.

And the way she says it tells me there's a lot more to the story.

"Or," she starts again, "H-he kissed me."

That last part concerns me.

"Care to elaborate?" I ask her.

"I'm a terrible drunk. Or, so I hear," she whispers. "I mean, I'm not an alcoholic. Some people might think so, but I don't drink every day. I just-"

"Like to drink."

She's quiet for a few seconds. "Yes."

"Did this fiancé... force himself on you?" My jaw clenches at the thought of it.

She hesitates again. "No."

"I see." I let out a sigh of relief.

"I didn't ask for it either, though," she explains. "And I stopped it as soon as I realized what was happening."

Why do I sense a _but _in there, somewhere?

She sighs. "But-"

"_I knew it!_"

"Excuse me?"

I clear my throat and feel heat rising to my face. I wasn't aware I'd said anything out loud. I _shouldn't _have said anything out loud. It's unprofessional.

"Go on."

"No, please. You go ahead, _Father_. Please tell me what you knew."

Wow. This just got awkward.

"Well..." I hesitate but if she wants to know, I should practice what I preach and tell her, right?

"It's just that I had a feeling there was a stipulation to your previous declaration."

"Because… God?"

"Because _life_."

"No offense, but what exactly do you know about life? You ever kiss your sister's fiancé?"

"Only child, actually."

"A _Catholic_ only child?"

I grin. She's got a point. "My mother was Catholic. From what I hear, my father had a low sperm count."

"So, no on the kissing your sister's fiancé."

"It's not to say I haven't had experience in doing things the church might not approve of."

I see her shadow leaning forward in her seat, bringing her face up to the grating, almost like she's trying to get a good look at me. "Such as?" she asks in a whisper.

The way she says it makes me want to tell her everything I've ever done. Every lie. Every stolen cigarette. Every extra glass of wine in the office late at night. And then I want her to absolve me of it all.

She'd be good at this. In my seat. Switching roles.

I picture it. Or try to.

Maybe it's something about her voice or something in the purpose behind everything she says. It disrupts my focus for a moment. Then I clear my throat and redirect my attention back to helping her. "We're all guilty of sin, mine are no worse or better than yours."

"No contest there, Father. I can assure you mine are way worse. I don't need God whispering in my ear to know that."

"Maybe not. Maybe we all just need to get it off our chests once in a while."

"You sound like my mom. Only with a deeper voice."

"I've been called worse, I suppose." I chuckle. I can't help it.

"And if I ask what else you've been called you'll probably find another flowery way to avoid the question. Am I right?"

"That's not how this is supposed to work," I tell her. "I generally ask the questions, not the other way around."

"Come on, Father. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"You've already told me yours, unless there's something you're leaving out."

Call it a hunch. Or intuition. But there's definitely something she's leaving out.

"Really? How much time do you have?"

There's also something about her that makes me want to sit here for the remainder of the day, listening to her mock me in the house of the Lord.

"As much as you need. I'm having dinner with a parishioner and his family but I'd skip it if you asked me to."

I would?

I would.

I'd do it for any member who needed me.

_Really._

I hear her sigh again and then the rustle of fabric as she shifts in her seat.

"I told you. I don't need this. I'm here for my mother."

I feel a strong need to offer an olive branch so I take a deep breath and let it out slow before making my confession. "I worshiped Fergie unabashedly for two and a half hours straight at a Black Eyed Peas concert in Jersey one night in 2010."

That felt good. Better than I thought it might. I haven't said the words out loud since I committed the sin. Not even to God. _Not that he didn't already know._

Despite the guilt, it was a good night. And I still have a poster with her signature on it behind a picture of the Pope in my office.

She hums. "Pre-priesthood or post?"

"Pre, but I was studying to _be _a priest, so-"

"Doesn't count," she says, catching me off guard.

"What?"

"Doesn't count."

I have to laugh. "Of course it counts."

"Nope," she insists.

"Okay, why not?"

"You were _planning_ on committing yourself to God, but it wasn't official yet. No vows were broken. Just like with Be-, I mean, my sister's fiancé. It was the best time to get it all out of our system. I mean, _your_ system. We're talking about you. And Fergie. And worship."

I have to say, I appreciate her logic. It's an interesting take. I feel like this conversation could go on for hours, but I have certain responsibilities when I'm inside this _dark, dank box._

"Forgive the wording here, but could I just play Devil's advocate for a moment?"

I swear she just sniggered.

"Sure, why not?" she says.

"_Planning _to commit is as solid as the commitment itself. If someone needs to get it out of their system before the actual commitment, don't you think maybe they should reconsider committing in the first place?"

"Yet here you are in a confessional, despite Fergie. Don't you think you should practice what you preach?"

My point precisely. Her insight is unsettling, but honestly, I'm kind of enjoying it. Until something she said a minute ago sinks in. Something about getting things out of her system.

"Are you saying you _wanted _the kiss? With the fiancé?"

She said she didn't ask for it. That doesn't mean she was repulsed by the guy.

"That's not the point. And anyway, aren't you just supposed to give me some prayers to say? I don't remember confessional being like a debate."

This is so much more fun though. "What would be the purpose?"

"I don't know, penance?"

I laugh as quietly as I can. I'm not sure if she's heard me, but I try to stifle it at least. "I have a feeling you've done enough of that on your own. Don't you?"

More quiet. Then rustling. She's gathering her things. I hear the doorknob turn.

She's done here.

I don't know if I did enough. Said enough. I honestly feel like I blew it. I worry she'll leave and I was of no use at all.

"You're very weird for a priest, you know that right?" she says.

It's almost a compliment. And her voice is lighter than when she arrived.

Maybe I _was _of use. "I've been told."

I'm pretty sure she laughs. I wish I could see the expression on her face. I wish I could match her voice to her eyes. A mouth. A person. A parishioner.

_My _parishioner. But which one?

"Keep up the good work," she finally tells me before leaving.

Good work. That's debatable. But hopeful.

I'm supposed to wait. Give her time to leave.

I cheat the system and crack my door open a bit. Not fast enough though. I'm only permitted a quick view of her as she steps through the doors, heading outside.

I get a glimpse of long brown hair. Jeans. A t-shirt with a rock band of some sort on it. Can't tell who, though.

There's a tattoo on the back of her forearm, too small to see clearly enough to know what it is.

She carries a backpack in her hands and is wearing high tops. Black ones.

And she appears to be here alone.

I don't know her.

After a year of confessions at St. Mary's, that was the most exhilarating one yet.

I'm hoping it's not her last.

* * *

**_A/N: Thanks to Kat over at A Different Forest for the mention this past week! Thanks to TheLemonadeStand for their support! And everyone who's been rec'ing us on FB - thanks to SUE for making our words read better - and to Chrisann for pre-reading. As always thank YOU ALL for reading. We might post chapter 2 next Friday, we might post it sooner (definitely sooner). Hope to see you there!_**


	3. Chapter 2 Communion

**Chapter 2. Communion**

**Bella**

I can't help but think about Ben as I leave confession.

"_It was just a kiss, Bella. You don't need to tell your sister, for Christ's sake."_

I cringe. Maybe he was right.

Maybe I should have locked it all away with every other bad decision I've made over the years.

Maybe then I wouldn't be excommunicated from half my family.

As I open the heavy, wooden doors, I'm almost blinded by bright summer sunshine. It feels like I just walked through a portal from a medieval universe where there was nothing but dim lights, incense, and a bizarro priest.

I glance over my shoulder and it's not another universe. It's St. Mary's, the church my family's been going to since long before I was born. Hell, since before my parents were born. My grandparents met there over fifty years ago.

Even though I've been going there as long as I can remember, it never quite felt like it did just now. As a kid, I recited prayers and listened to bible verses. Aside from the hymns, I was usually bored out of my mind. Today I had an actual conversation in a confessional, of all places. With an actual human. Sure, I know priests are human. But no priest has ever seemed very human to me before. Or particularly interesting and intuitive. Or sarcastically funny.

It was so weird.

And intimate, kind of.

That had to be wrong. Didn't it?

It was definitely wrong. I left without saying any prayers.

My parents and grandparents wouldn't be happy to hear their priest liked Fergie. _Worshipped Fergie._ I smile as I try to picture it but then realize it's impossible. I have no idea what this priest looks like. And he hadn't been a priest then. No collar, just a kid with a crush. Nine years ago and he still feels guilty about it. Typical Catholic.

Anyway, I won't tell on him. I'll keep the priest's secret. I heard it in the confessional after all.

You can take the girl out of the religion, but maybe you can't take the religion out of the girl.

"Your mother said I'd find you here, but I didn't believe her."

I spin around to see my dad grinning on the sidewalk in front of me. He's on his way home from work.

"This doesn't mean I'm converting," I warn him.

Dad wraps an arm around my shoulder. "You can't convert to something you already are. Unless you want to be a double Catholic."

"Is that even a thing?"

"I think Great Aunt Sylvia on your mother's side's double Catholic."

I laugh as we set out toward home. "Mom tell you why I was at confession?"

"What makes you think she's started telling me things all of a sudden?"

Mom's always had her nose in everyone's business. Dad's more of a sit in his recliner and watch the game kind of guy.

"Good to have you home, kiddo," he says, squeezing my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. His tool belt bumps against my hip.

"Not for long," I warn.

"It doesn't have to be like that, you know. No better place for a musician than New York."

"I'm on tour, Dad. Kind of an important part of the whole music thing."

"Lots of bars to tour right here in Brooklyn."

"Bars in Brooklyn? I don't think you understand the concept of touring."

I slip out from underneath my dad's arm, struck by a sense of deja vu. Alec said almost the same exact thing to me just before I left for home.

xXxXx

"_I don't think you understand touring, Bella. Stuff happens on the road. It's not real. It doesn't mean anything."_

"_I know." I sighed, sneaking a glance at Mike and Jessica arm in arm, deep in conversation, like they were the only two people on the planet. _

_The thing is, I hadn't known it wasn't real. I figured it out after Jessica showed up. Up until then, I'd been so sure. _

"_Listen, take these next couple weeks to get your head on straight. If not, I'm sure we can find someone to fill in for the final leg."_

_xXxXx_

"You've got a couple of weeks to try to explain it to me," my dad says as we round the corner onto our block.

"What?" I ask, trying to focus on my dad and forget the way Mike looked past me like he was bored, like I was some lovesick fan when I told him I was leaving the tour for a while.

"Look, Mama! Look!" a little kid calls out from down the street. "It's Auntie! It's Auntie!"

Rose and Emmett's minivan is parked in front of my parent's house. Rose is very pregnant, but she's lugging kid after kid out of the backseat like it's nothing. Her littlest is jumping up and down, clutching her skirt and pointing in my direction. When Rose glances up to see which auntie her daughter's so excited about, she scowls and ducks her head back into the car.

My stomach churns. I don't know how I'll survive these two weeks, least of all use them to "get my head on straight".

"Listen," I say to my dad, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll meet you back home. I've got some important tour stuff I've got to take care of."

Important stuff like getting a drink or two under my belt. I found this very helpful after Jessica showed up on tour.

"The whole family's coming over for dinner, Bella."

It's even more reason to make a break for it, if you ask me. But when I glance into my dad's pleading eyes, I don't have the heart to completely disappoint him.

"I'll be back, Dad. Promise," I say with a kiss to his cheek.

There's only one way I'd be able to make it through this family dinner.

xXxXx

Billy's Place is exactly how I remembered it - dim lighting, dark booths, and a polished wooden bar where a few regulars are nursing their beers.

"Bella!" Jake calls. He hops over the bar and nearly crushes me in an enormous hug. "When'd you get home?" He steps back, looking me over like he can't believe it's really me.

I can't either, really, but I guess it was inevitable. He has the liquor. I have the disapproving family.

"Can I get a drink, Jake?" I ask, slipping onto a barstool.

"Are you kidding? Anything for a famous rock star."

I roll my eyes, then bum a cigarette from the guy a couple of seats down. I tuck it behind my ear, certain I'll need every excuse I can get my hands on to slip out of the house later.

Jake doesn't have to ask what I'm drinking. He slides a scotch in front of me with a smile. It's a smile most normal girls would die for - straight white teeth, dimples, and a look in his eyes like I'm the best thing he's ever seen. I prefer my men drugged out and dishonest, I guess. Jake's neither.

"What brings you back?" he asks. "Last I heard you were in Seattle. Or L.A."

I down the shot and slide the glass back in Jake's direction. "Angela," I say, which is mostly true.

"Oh, yeah! I heard she was getting married any day now." He pours me another.

"You heard right." I hold up the glass as a toast to the happy couple.

"She was in here a few weeks ago. Ben seems cool."

xXxXx

"_Bella Swan! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?!"_ I hear Ben's voice as we ran into each other outside the liquor store last night.

_His eyes raked over me before he pulled me into a hug._

"_Watch it, buddy. Aren't you marrying my little sister?" _I asked, disentangling myself from his arms.

"_Just missed you."_

_xXxXx_

"I guess," I reply to Jake noncommittally. Ben and I are _not_ cool, but Jake doesn't need to know as much.

I start sipping at my second glass of scotch. After all, I promised my dad I'd make it back for dinner.

"He said he knew you pretty well back in high school."

Back in high school Ben always knew what to say. I fell for it every single time. I fell for it last night.

"I don't know what he's talking about," I lie. To hell with slow. I pound back the rest of the shot.

"He brought up you and that dress and the talent show your senior year. Seriously unforgettable." Jake shakes his head. Oh, the memories. High school was… something.

I always pretended I was so confident and crazy back then. I pretended not to care what people said. I'm still pretending, if I'm being honest. Ben used to help me dull the pain of it all. Last night it was easy to fall back into those old habits. In the end, it only made the pain worse, for me and for the people I love.

"Could we maybe _not_ talk about Ben?"

Jake leans on the bar, bringing his face closer to mine as he pours me another. "I was talking about _you_, Bella. Can't believe you're here. You look good."

I smile back at him. He looks good too. "You think your dad can handle the bar on his own for a couple of hours?"

Jake scans the room. There's all of six patrons, myself included. Although I'm not sure I count as a patron, per se. I don't plan on paying for the liquor.

"What's up?" he asks me.

"Be my date? Family dinner. My place?"

"Now?" he asks as I down my final drink.

"Can you think of a better time?"

Jake narrows his eyes. He can probably think of several better times, but he's a nice guy. He talks to his dad and a few minutes later he's got his arm around my waist as he's helping me home.

Back at my parent's house, the air smells like marinara sauce and the living room's full of kids running, jumping, crying, fighting. One of my nephews almost knocks me over, but Jake catches me as I'm falling. He's a gentleman. His hands don't even stray.

"Who's there?" my mom calls out. "Charlie, did you hear the door?"

I take Jake by the hand and pull him through the crowd of kids to the dining room. Mom's put both of the extra leaves in the table and with grandma and grandpa, each of my sisters, one husband, a fiancé, and my parents, there's hardly room to move.

"Jacob?" Mom asks. I'm not surprised she hasn't acknowledged me. "Jacob Black, is that you? You're all grown up!"

"Bella, I saved you a seat," Dad says. "Right next to the Father."

"The who?" I ask, steadying myself on the back of Alice's chair. My head's spinning a little. This should be fun. More fun than if I was sober, anyway.

"Charlie, go out to the garage and get another chair for Jacob," my mom demands.

She pulls Jake into her arms like he's a long lost son. I know what she's thinking. She's hoping that after my confession, God's taken pity on my soul and sent Jake to my rescue. A man wholesome enough to save me.

"I got it, Mom," Ben says, scrambling to his feet and leaving the room without looking back.

"_It was just a kiss, Bella."_

"Bella, take a seat!" my mom orders, bringing my mind back to the present.

Angela stares at me intently, so I duck my head and shuffle along the wall to find the chair Dad's saved. That's when I see the priest. One look and I stop dead in my tracks.

It's not the priest part that shocks me. Growing up, old Father Volturi would make me stand in front of the adults at the dining room table and recite the Beatitudes at least once a month.

This is not Father Volturi, though. This is the hottest priest I've ever laid eyes on.

Then it dawns on me.

He was invited here by Dad. One of his most loyal parishioners.

_How much time do you have?_

_As much as you need. I'm having dinner with a parishioner and his family, but I'd skip it if you asked me to_.

Holy shit.

He stands up and extends a hand. And his smile is practically wicked.

Priests have smiled at me my whole life. They smile like God's on their shoulder, whispering in their ear. Or they smile like they know more than I do.

They do not smile like they're openly worshipping the world around them. They do not smile like they're awestruck in an auditorium.

"You must be Bella."

And god dammit all to hell.

I have a feeling this priest probably likes Fergie.

* * *

_**A/N: Hey there! We thank God for SueBee our fearless beta fairy! We also give thanks for all of you who answered our prayers and reviewed the last chapter. The next chapter should be up on Friday, God willing. Until then, you'll have to get by with hot priest dreams.**_


	4. Chapter 3 Our Father

**Chapter 3. Our Father**

**Bella**

"Um, hi." I wave a little as I inch my way toward my seat. Toward the priest.

He's tall, with light brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes.

He's young, just like he suggested in confessional.

He's well respected. I can tell by the way my mom and my sisters are literally looking up at him, like he can do no wrong.

And he's celibate. Because, you know, the collar, the vows.

And me? I'm three sheets to the wind, staring lustfully into the eyes of a man of the cloth. Okay, maybe two sheets. Because I could definitely use another drink to get me through this.

"What's for dinner, Mom?" I ask as I slide into my seat. "Any chance we're having black eyed peas?"

The priest narrows his eyes and I can't help but grin. He settles into his seat next to me and sneaks another look in my direction.

Did it just get warm in here? It's definitely warm in here. Downright hot. How hot, you ask? As hot as the freakin' priest sitting next to me.

(Very hot.)

Alice distracts him by asking him to set a casserole dish down for her. He's glad to help, and I'm glad he's helping too. I can't handle his attention this up close and personal. But just as I'm getting as comfortable as I can, all things considered, the priest flashes me another disarming smile.

"Christ," I mumble.

Mom raises her eyebrows. Rose coughs. The priest covers his mouth and chuckles into his hand.

Shit. I probably shouldn't say 'Christ' next to the priest. Not like that, anyway. I didn't mean to take his imaginary boss' name in vain. I swear to God, I didn't.

Ben comes back from the garage with a folding chair, and everyone on the other side of the dining room shifts to make a tiny space for Jake across the table from me.

"Maybe we should eat," Dad says, giving Mom's hand a squeeze. She nods dutifully and gives me a pointed look.

"Bella, would you like to say grace tonight?" It's as though she's punishing me for something… with someone. Which she most definitely is. His name starts with a "B" and ends with an "N" and he's engaged to my sister, Angela.

I smile. Or, try to. "No, I would not."

"Bella…"

"I"m confused, Mom, were you asking me a question? Because it sounded like a -"

The priest, halfway through his glass of wine, spits it out and nearly chokes to death.

Emmett jumps to his feet in firefighter mode, ready to give the Heimlich.

"Are you okay, Father?" Dad asks, and although the priest can't quite speak yet, he nods, places the remainder of his drink down, and waves Emmett back into his seat. On the other side of him, Grandma pats him on the back.

The priest turns slowly until he's staring straight at me. He looks horrified. Or scared. Amused?

Oh God.

He knows.

This time I really smile. I can't help it because this is ridiculous. "Nice to meet you, Father. Outside of your dark, dank box, I see."

"Bella!" Mom hisses.

"What?" Grandma asks.

Rose glowers.

Ben's head is bent, like he's already praying.

Jake looks between me and the priest. "What box?"

"Confessional," the good Father corrects me, confirming that he knows, and unwittingly answering Jake at the same time.

"Bella was at confessional?" Jake asks loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

"I can't say," the priest explains after looking _almost _guilt ridden for ratting me out.

"No comment," I tell Jake.

I glance at the priest out of the corner of my eye. He takes a long sip of his wine again. A very long one. When he sets the empty glass back down, I swear the side of his mouth is turned up. Is he smirking?

"More wine, Father?" Rose pours, as though he's already said yes. He nods, as though he's desperate for another glass.

I know the feeling, Father. Try spending eighteen years at this table.

After another sip, the priest glances around the table at my family, then nods his head like he's made a decision.

"I'd be honored to say grace this evening, Mrs. Swan," he tells my mother.

"Thank goodness someone is willing. The food's getting cold."

Mom narrows her eyes at me, like somehow it's all my fault. Sure, I'll take responsibility for refusing to say grace. And the Ben part of things. And the talk about confession. And bringing Jake over unannounced. Fine, it's totally my fault.

Father gives the sign of the cross and bows his head. With his eyes closed, I can stare a little. He's got long eyelashes for a guy and a few freckles over the tops of his cheeks. His five o'clock shadow accentuates his jaw. When he swallows, his collar moves and I find myself peeking over the edge, like maybe I can get a hint about what's inside.

No one seems to notice but me as everyone takes the person's hand next to them. I hesitate when I see the priest's hand, upturned at my side, waiting like an invitation to all things holy.

Or, unholy - if you're me, thinking about what he must be like without the collar on. Pre-collar. Pre-priesthood even.

Fergie concert pre-priesthood.

Did he dance that night?

Did he have a date?

Did he kiss her?

What do his lips feel like?

Shit.

I have to take his hand.

_Take his hand, Bella._

The priest blinks his eyes open and peeks at me, like he doesn't understand what my problem is. Like I've hurt his feelings? No, more like he's trying to read my mind.

Christ. I wish he'd stop looking at me like that. And I pray he can't read my mind. If he can read minds at least he'll hear me praying. I've got this.

I give his hand one last glance and then I pull myself together and take it.

And hope he doesn't notice my palms are sweating.

His fingertips are rough and his hands are strong like he's done some manual labor. Probably building houses for the poor, or something. Because he's a priest. One of the good ones, maybe. Who also rocks out to the Black Eyed Peas in secret.

"Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," everyone says in response.

"Amen," I say, looking the priest in the eye.

He squeezes my hand before he lets it go. Then he gives the sign of the cross.

Yes. Help us all, oh Lord… to lust after the right people. Not Mike with his girlfriend, or Ben who's engaged, or the guy next to me who's taken a vow of celibacy.

I should be lusting after someone nice. Someone without a significant other. I glance across the table at Jake. He takes a break from explaining something football related to Alice to grin back at me.

Alice titters and Jake's cheeks go red. He's been busted liking me at family dinner. Too bad I don't like him back.

"So, um, _Father_, I don't even know your name."

And it sounds like I'm trying to pick him up in a bar. Or maybe it just sounds that way to me. But when I look up and see half my family with their mouths hanging open and their forks suspended in mid-air, I know I'm right. Or very, very wrong.

"Bella," my mother chastises me. But the priest? He's just smiling again.

Damn him.

To make matters worse, he's leaning in. Toward me. "It's Edward," he whispers.

Like it's a secret just between us.

And it's silly, but I shudder.

"Father Edward is new to the parish this year," Alice explains. "He's really good."

"Thank you, Alice," he says like the humble servant he probably is. "I try to do right by God."

Alice beams. Mom pats her shoulder. Alice is the best Catholic of us all. She's probably heard every one of the priest's sermons.

Then, a thought strikes me out of the blue. It's so unexpected I nearly fall out of my seat.

I almost don't want to admit it to myself. I sneak a glance at the priest tucking into his meal beside me and I can't deny it. The thought takes form.

I'd like to see Father Edward up there behind the pulpit speaking from his heart. I'm sure it would be the weirdest sermon I've ever heard. And the most entertaining. And he'd look pretty hot giving it.

"Christ," I mutter again.

"Bella!" my mom scolds, as always.

If there were ever a doubt before, now it's confirmed.

I am most definitely going to hell.

* * *

**_A/N: Lettuce pray, y'all. And lettuce also thank SueBee for her beta expertise. Chrisann for pre-reading. Charlie, for inviting the good Father to dinner and of course you all for reading about this highly unconventional priest. See you next week - hopefully!_**


	5. Chapter 4 Holy Fire

**Chapter 4. Holy Fire**

**Father Cullen**

Of all the Catholic homes in all of Brooklyn.

I have to laugh at the serendipitous ways in which God works.

Truth be told, I thought about the woman with a knack for biblical debate long after she'd left my confessional this afternoon. Before I knew her name. Before I knew she had the warmest smile I've seen in ages or the deepest, darkest eyes I've ever seen.

There's a story behind those eyes, one she was unwilling to tell in the confessional.

And here she is, sitting next to me, in Charlie and Renee Swan's home.

I thought maybe, eventually, I'd figure out who she was. We'd introduce ourselves and possibly even continue our discussion about when a sin is a sin and when it "doesn't count," as she might put it.

I just hadn't expected it to be here, tonight, while I'm helping two of my most loyal parishioners celebrate the upcoming marriage of their second youngest daughter.

And then it hits me.

"Christ." My eyes snap to Ben whose eyes snap to me, as does everyone else's at the table.

_...Son of God, Have mercy on me. I didn't mean to take your name in vain. Out loud. In front of your children. _

"Is… all around this table," I add with a smile. And it's awkward. It's fucking awkward. But it seems to have worked. The family all goes back to their respective conversations.

Then I glance back at Ben.

He's the fiancé Bella kissed. Who kissed her, I mean. No more than twenty-four hours ago.

No wonder she's drunk. Buzzed maybe. It's hard to tell.

I steal a glance or two at her while she's busy filling her glass, and I notice so many new things about her now without a wall between us.

The leather band around her wrist. The smell of her perfume. The teal streak in her hair that she tucks behind her ear so the rest of the family doesn't notice it so much.

"Have you met Jake, Father?" Mrs. Swan asks, and I quickly turn my attention away from Bella. Then I give the young man across the table a nod.

"William Black's son, right?" He doesn't always make it to Sunday mass, but I remember him mentioning his bar once, and then I remember visiting it a few times. Maybe more.

Who's counting?

"That's right," he says, giving me the respectful smile that's expected at these things.

"And how do you know Bella?" I've been wondering since I saw them arrive together.

Jacob flashes a shy grin. "We, um, we all went to school together," he says. There's something in the way he looks over at her. Like there's more to their relationship than meets the eye. Or he's hoping there's more. But he's not about to admit any of that. At least not now. In front of her parents. Or the designated priest.

"Together?" Bella asks with a sharp tongue and a daring glare.

Jake shrugs and blushes. With just one word from the woman at my side, he looks like his pride has been wounded.

"Jake was a couple years younger," she explains to me as she stares him down. "Always trying to keep up with the older kids in the neighborhood."

"And Bella was always getting in my way," he shoots back.

"Always protecting you, you dork." She kicks him under the table.

"Bella!" Mrs. Swan chastises. "Manners!"

"I said 'dork', Mom." She turns toward me. "Is saying 'dork' a sin, Father?"

The expectancy in her eyes is disarming. Suddenly, I'm back in that dark, dank box with her debating all things holy.

"Actually, it all depends on your intention," I tell her. And I'm apparently a holy geek because I'm a little too eager to discuss this with her.

I try to tone it down.

"I'd need to know how you intended Jacob to feel when you called him a dork." She raises a brow at me. And then, I notice, so does Mrs. Swan.

It wouldn't be right to disrespect the people who've invited me here tonight, so I go in another direction than originally planned.

"On the other hand, you should always honor your father and your mother. So in this case-" I cup a hand to the side of my mouth and whisper-"probably."

Bella sighs and goes back to sipping her wine. Mrs. Swan looks triumphant. I'm not entirely pleased.

"Emmett? You and Ben were in the same grade, weren't you?" Charlie chimes in. The man is a professional at changing the subject. I like it. I'm fairly certain God does as well.

Rose's husband nods as he wipes his mouth politely with his napkin. "Football team," he says to me as he elbows his wife gently. "Rosie cheered back then. Alice was still helping Mom out at the concession stand." He points to his other sister-in-law playfully. "Bella used to harass us endlessly from the bleachers."

I can't help but grin, imagining it. Most of the Swan family laughs. Bella doesn't.

"What was Angela doing?" I ask, finding it odd she's not mentioned.

Mrs. Swan takes over. "She was sick. But I prayed. Every night, Father. And just look at her now." She gives her daughter a satisfied gaze. "Prayers answered, she's healthy as a horse, getting _married._"

Bella adds, "Also, um, _medicine_."

I chuckle but cover it with a cough. Thankfully, no one seems to have caught on. No one but Bella, that is, who looks both surprised and proud of the reaction she's gotten from me.

"Ben," I say, only slightly louder than I probably should. He jumps a little when I call his name. "You must be excited. The big day's almost here." I hold up my glass. Mostly because I need a drink. Badly. "Cheers."

"Um, yeah." he says with a shrug and a forced smile. I nod as everyone avoids eye contact and drinks.

"It's natural to be nervous," I tell him politely. After all, he's as apt to fall into temptation as Bella, right? Although, she's not the one getting married in less than two weeks. And she's certainly not the one putting on a show by sliding an unassuming arm around Angela like nothing's happened.

_Give me strength, oh Lord, to accept all of your children, despite their shortcomings. _

Does his fiancé know he kissed Bella? I know her mother does. But who else?

"Thanks again for saying yes, Father. We were so excited when Alice told us you were free to marry us." Angela beams from ear to ear. Until she glances at Bella. Then the smile disappears and it's clear.

She knows.

I peek around at the rest of the family as I take a drink. Rose, yes, she's avoiding eye contact with everyone and everything except for her meal.

Alice, I couldn't say. She seems altogether too happy to know.

The men of the house, not so much. They're oblivious. All except for the adulterer, of course. He's making it a point to ignore Bella by shoving as much food into his mouth as possible.

When I look over at her again, Bella's eyes meet mine for just a second or two. Maybe more. I feel like she wants to say something. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

When she looks away, tucking some hair behind her ear, I see the tattoo again. And this time I get a good look at it. It's part of a guitar.

So, she's musically inclined. Maybe she plays. Maybe she writes.

Maybe both.

She lowers her hand and I notice the piercings in her upper ear.

I notice the way she taps her foot a little when she's nervous - even though, no doubt, she'd die a thousand deaths before she admitted that to anyone. The way she fiddles with her wine glass when she's deep in thought.

The way her lips glisten just after she's licked them.

Fuck.

_Forgive me Father for falling prey to the weaknesses of the flesh. _

I give the sign of the cross.

"More wine, Father?" Bella asks when she notices my glass is empty. And that I'm praying about something.

"Absolutely."

And as she leans across the table in front of me, I look away.

When she pours the alcohol into my glass, I keep my eyes on the stem instead of her hands. I don't think about them touching mine. I don't recall how soft they were when our fingers were entwined earlier or how the tension built inside me when it happened.

I ignore the way my skin burns when she's gazing at me, right this very minute, and how it makes me want to bask in the warmth of her smile and spend a few hours in remorseful prayer all at the same time.

And when she finally takes her seat again, I definitely do not watch her hands slide against her thighs to try and warm them.

I swallow. Hard.

"Excuse me for a moment, will you?" I give Charlie and Renee a gracious smile and calmly push away from the table. I make my way to the restroom. One foot in front of the other. I shut the door behind me, locking it for good measure.

My breath is shaking as I do it.

I turn the faucet on and splash water on my face then grab a towel from the rack and wipe the past thirty minutes away with it.

I hold on to the sink to steady myself.

I close my eyes and say a quick prayer.

"Forgive me Father," I begin breathlessly.

Only I can't seem to finish.

I bow my head further. "Forgive me Father…"

Nope, not happening.

"Forgive me…"

I raise my head and look at the hypocrite in the mirror.

"Christ."

And it's both a cry of frustration and a prayer all in one.

I drag a hand over my face. I take a deep breath and blow it out like my life depends on it. Or at least like my priesthood depends on it.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror for a moment. And then, determined, I let myself out of the makeshift confessional and head back to dinner.

As I pass the kitchen, a breeze blows through, and I look to see the open door leading out to the back patio. Then I notice someone is standing outside that door, in the dark. Alone. Then I notice who that someone is.

Just the outline of her body in the moonlight makes my breathing a bit shallow.

I should keep walking, join the family in the dining room.

It would be dangerous to give in to temptation and be alone with her. I know this. Yet here I am, headed straight for her, as though she's been magnetized and I'm the iron, relentlessly pulled in her direction.

She's struggling to light a cigarette. And, of course, she's angry about it. But my gut tells me she's frustrated about more than just a piece of paper filled with tobacco. She needs guidance, wants it even though she refuses to ask for it. I've heard it in her voice. Seen it in her eyes. Felt it when our hands touched at grace.

I convince myself my weaknesses are not what's important here. She needs someone who isn't going to pass judgment on every word that comes out of her mouth; someone who can help her find some inner peace.

"Fuck," she groans.

I can't help but grin as I shake my head, making my way through the kitchen toward her.

I like Bella. A lot. I like her tenacity. I like that she doesn't put on airs around anyone, not even a priest. Even though she's hiding behind a wall she's built to protect herself, I can see her.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she adds to the lonely fuck she already shouted.

Lucky for her, her mother isn't the one who noticed her outside stealing a smoke.

Lucky for me, I happen to have a lighter.

* * *

_**A/N: Bless the following Father, for they love and support us regardless of our sinful ideas for this story: Sue, because she fixes all our grammarly faults. Chrisann, for blessing our chapters, and READERS for being here despite this blasphemy. Seriously. Thanks for reading. If you're interested in teasers or general all around tomfoolery - come join the FB group. Otherwise, we'll See you Friday!**_


	6. Chapter 5 Let There Be (a) Light

**Chapter 5. Let There Be (a) Light **

**Bella**

"Godammit!" With the wind blowing off the bay, the damp book of matches I found isn't up to the challenge of lighting a cigarette. Not even close.

"Fucking fuck."

A little more wine and I might have the balls to go back into the kitchen and use the stovetop.

Actually, I should've brought the bottle outside with me.

Sitting across the table from Ben and Jake is one thing, but lusting after a priest while sitting across the table from Ben and Jake is another thing entirely. Not to mention, Mom, Rose, and Angela have been glaring at me all night long.

A case of wine probably wouldn't be enough to get me through tonight.

I thought a cigarette might help. I try another match. And another. And…

"Fuck!" I shout.

"Need a light?"

I jump. My head snaps in the direction of the voice.

Holy shit. It's the priest. Father Edward. He's biting his bottom lip as he flicks a silver lighter and holds it out for me.

I can't help but raise an eyebrow. Is he for real?

I place the cigarette between my lips and lean forward as he cups the flame so it's not blown out by the wind. His hair falls over his forehead as he does, and he looks, well… divine. There. I said it.

I inhale deeply, relishing the taste of tobacco and the way Father Edward's body shields me from the wind.

"Thanks, Father. You always come to the rescue like this?"

"It's every priest's job to try and give what his parishioners need." He pauses to put the lighter away, then locks eyes with me like he's a freight train, headed straight for me. "_When_ they need it."

_All aboard, Father._

"Wow. That's a lot of responsibility. What else have you got in those pockets?" I nod toward his pants.

He grins and ducks his head, looking at the ground. The way he's able to pick and choose when to let me egg him on really pisses me off - in the best way possible. His self-control is impressive.

"Sorry," I say, and manage to almost mean it. Flirting with a priest's probably a sin. "My mom should have warned you. I'm incorrigible."

"Your mom did warn me," he says, fixing his eyes on me again. "And you're not incorrigible, Bella." He waits like he wants to be sure I'm listening. And I am. "You're human."

The way he looks at me - like he really sees me - or more than that, like he accepts me, makes the breath catch in my throat. Makes my cheeks go warm, even in the chilly night air.

"Mom might debate you on that point. She thinks I'm a demon spawn."

He chuckles. "Should I call you Lucifer then?"

"Post fall from grace Lucifer. No angel."

He nods, and I can't help but feel the tiniest bit proud of my biblical knowledge. I learned something from Sunday school after all. Enough to almost slightly impress a priest.

Father Edward takes a cigarette out of his pocket. Then he lights it as he leans against the house. "So." He pulls a drag and tilts his head back as he blows the smoke out. "That's the fiancé."

I openly gape at him. "You smoke?"

"From time to time. And drink and curse. And sometimes lie. I occasionally cheat, mostly at cards."

And if I was gaping before, I think my chin's officially hit the ground. Forget my worries about Mom finding out about Fergie. If she heard this shit, she'd kick him out of the house, then get him kicked out of the parish.

"But, um, hello? Those things are ungodly. Aren't they?"

He raises an eyebrow and nods toward the cigarette I'm holding between my fingers.

"What?" I ask, taking a drag for effect. "I'm all post fall from grace Lucifer over here. But you… you're supposed to be… _holy_?"

He laughs like I've told a joke. Or cracked his secret code. Or something.

"If I started the habit pre-priesthood, would it count?"

Having my words from confessional thrown back in my face makes my knees go unexpectedly weak. I feel the urge to bite my lip. "Probably?"

He grins. "See, told you."

"Smart ass."

I may not be the world's best Catholic, but I have never ever sworn at a priest before. He doesn't even flinch.

"All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," he muses as he stares up at the sky and takes another drag of his cigarette.

"That's Romans something or other, right?"

He seems surprised. Maybe even impressed. "That's right."

"But still-"

"Bella," he says, drawing out the syllables like he enjoys saying my name. "Being a man of God doesn't mean I'm perfect. I still have all the built-in flaws everyone else does." He pauses for a moment. "Besides, if I was perfect, why would I need God in the first place?"

He winks and I'm pretty sure I self-combust and turn into a pile of ash.

For a second I feel like he was giving me a glimpse into who he is without the collar, but with that wink, a shrug, and the devilish smile on his face, the moment's definitely over.

"Please go tell my mom she doesn't need God. Please?" I mock beg, a cigarette between my lips, my hands clasped in front of me. I think about getting down on my knees for the performance, but given the way this unorthodox holy man makes me feel, it would be indecent to say the least.

He takes another drag and lets it out, watching me with an intensity that damn near makes me want to do it... drop to my knees right in front of him. Yeah.

I shake my head to try to erase the thought from my mind. I lean against the wall for support.

I've had too much wine… mixed with a hot priest. It's definitely a new kind of high.

I attempt to play it cool. Like I just chill with a cigarette and a priest any old random night of the week, and he doesn't in any way shape or form make me want to jump his bones.

I clear my throat. "So, you're saying God expects us to do these things?"

"I'm saying it's perfectly natural for us, in our perfectly flawed nature, to have a cigarette every once in a while, or… kiss our sister's fiancé in a moment of weakness."

"I told you. He kissed me. He's an ass."

Movement in the kitchen grabs his attention away from me. He glances at my sister for a moment before he pushes off of the wall and flicks his cigarette onto the ground. Then he starts to back away towards the house, like he has to go but doesn't want to.

Shit, I don't want him to go either.

"And I told you," he says with the smallest of grins. "You're human."

Father Edward steps inside and gives a polite nod to Rose as she puts a few dishes into the sink. Then he keeps right on going, until he disappears from my sight.

I savor the rest of my cigarette slowly. I like how Father Edward kept saying I was human, like it made up for all the shit I tended to pull. Somehow I don't think the excuse would go far with the rest of the family. But it made all the difference to him.

Of course, he's a priest. It's his job. He's got to say stuff like that to everyone. And it's really not hard. Everyone who comes to him is human. I laugh. It's almost too easy.

Someone's like, "Forgive me Father, I stole a cookie," and he tells them they're human.

Someone else asks for forgiveness for stealing a car. They're human too.

So, of course, I kiss Ben. I ruin my sister's marriage before she even walks down the aisle. I'm human. Convenient, Father. Very convenient.

Very much bullshit.

But hoo boy, he looks good when he's saying it.

And even though it's most definitely, probably… okay, _possibly_ bullshit, I can't lie. It made me feel better hearing him say it. Like he's the only one who ever cared I'm human. The only one willing to give me a break without taking something at the same time.

He's probably a really good priest.

I stub my cigarette out then collect my butt and the Father's. Mom keeps an eye out for stuff like this. Wouldn't want her to know he's not perfect.

I fiddle with the Father's cigarette, thinking how he'd held it between his lips. His lips looked soft. I mean, most lips look soft, but I don't think about most lips. I only think about the lips I should never, ever kiss.

I should be thinking of -

"Hey, Bella!"

"Jake?" I ask, spinning around. I should be thinking of Jake. Tall, dark, and handsome, and crushing on me his entire life.

"I thought you might need a jacket." He holds out my hoodie. "It's chilly tonight."

And a perfect gentleman on top of it all.

I take it from him and slip it on. "Thanks."

"So, you've been talking to a priest?" He kicks at the porch railing a little, fidgeting. He can't look me in the eye.

"I guess I have. Crazy, right?"

"Not really. Makes sense, if you ask me."

"Why?" I'm surprised by the defensive tone in my voice.

Jake finally looks up from his feet and smiles at me a little. "You're better than people give you credit for."

Wow. Jake actually manages to take my breath away a little. "You give me credit?"

He takes a step in my direction. "I do, Bella. Always have."

Shit. This is going to lead to a kiss. And I've kissed at least one too many men in the past twenty-four hours.

I force myself to laugh, my back against the wall. "Yeah, you do give me credit... all the time. At your dad's bar. Way too much credit, actually. I don't know how I'll ever pay you back."

I've ruined the mood and Jake's smile fades a little, but he doesn't look away. He gazes into my eyes and I get the feeling he sees me too. He sees this glorified version of me. It's a little different than how Father Edward seemed to see me. He saw all my flaws but seemed to like me anyway.

"I was talking to your mom in there," Jake says.

"You made her night coming over. Thanks, Jake."

"Thanks for inviting me. I told my dad I'd be back after dinner, though. Friday nights are busy."

"Right. Well, I'm sure I'll -"

"But anyway, your mom says you don't have a date for Angela's wedding."

"What?"

"And I know inviting myself's not exactly how this is supposed to go, but I thought if you needed someone to be there for you. If you maybe, _wanted_ me there with you. Like as a date. I don't have anything going on that Saturday. And I'd really -"

"Yes," I say. Because I should. And because I'll need all the support I can get. And because, if I know what's right for myself, I should give it a go with someone who's good for me.

Jake beams. "Awesome. That's just… yes!" He jumps down the patio steps then spins back in my direction. "Come hit me up at the bar this weekend?" he asks.

"You know I will."

We've been over this. Jake: alcohol. Me: family dysfunction. It's inevitable.

Then I go back inside to tell Angela I've got a plus one. She'll have to change up the seating chart and the number of guests for the caterer. It's going to make her night.

* * *

_**A/N: We hope you're all taking spiritual precautions, because this is just the beginning, folks. Possible side effects of this fic include: taking the Lord's name in vain on the regular, feeling hot and bothered when you hear a hymn, indecent impulses when you're in the confessional. We'd like to sincerely thank you all for reading and finding humor (and heat) in religion. Thanks so much to Sue for using her super powers for good and cleaning up our grammar. Thanks to Chrisann for her chapter feedback.** _


	7. Chapter 6 The Ambry

**Chapter 6. The Ambry**

**Father Cullen**

Four Hail Marys, two pints of Guinness and one good album - the Best of Kansas - and I was finally able to sleep peacefully last night.

There are no thoughts, this morning, about how Bella seems to be challenging me every time she stares at me just a little too long.

No thoughts about the sound of her voice as she takes the Lord's name in vain.

And I'm definitely not imagining ungodly things about her lips when she smiles.

It was the wine. And the close quarters.

_And the company in those close quarters._

Regardless…

Today is the parish's annual end of summer rummage sale. I'm feeling good about it. If all goes as planned, by the end of the day we'll have a few thousand extra dollars to put toward the church's homeless ministry. There's nothing like helping those in need to make one forget about his own shortcomings.

At least that's what I'm thinking as I walk up to the church and see the Swan's family minivan waiting for me already, as usual.

Alice is always early, and she eagerly hops out of the car, ready to hit the ground running. Then the rest of the ladies of the family spill out including the one family member I hadn't expected to see today. One, I realize, I'm excited to see.

Bella pulls her hair into a ponytail and flashes a smile in my direction, and I face the simple fact that … God hates me.

"Why in the fuck hast thou forsaken me, Lord?" I mutter, attempting to grin as I approach the women.

I specifically prayed for him to deliver me from temptation.

My elders might say He's testing me. Preparing me for what comes next.

I say it's punishment. And there's an entire slew of reasons why He might be doing just that. One reason in particular is standing out in the forefront of my mind as I watch Bella talk with her family.

_Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned. I shouldn't have jerked off to Mariah Carey's Christmas album that one time. _

"Okay, two times," I admit to Him quietly as I wave to the Swan women.

I don't listen to that album anymore.

"Good morning, Father." Alice beams as she begins to pull bags of clothes out of the back of her mother's car. I honestly don't know how she comes through month after month for every event we have. But who am I to question the Lord's will?

"You've done it again, Alice." I help with the bags. Rose grabs one as well. I catch Bella staring at me as she grabs two. There's something different about her demeanor this morning I can't quite put a finger on.

"Morning," she says in a sing-song voice, and then it hits me.

She seems… happy.

She takes her bags quickly and sets them inside the door to the parish, then returns like she's on a mission.

"There's fresh coffee inside," I tell them all. I'm going to need a cup or two myself if I want to catch up with Alice and Bella's pace today.

"Would that be Irish coffee, by any chance?" Bella asks. I smile because she's definitely a parishioner after my own heart, this one.

"Afraid not," I tell her with a wink. Then I whisper jokingly, "But there's some extra wine in the ambry."

"Father!" Mrs. Swan blushes. Rose giggles. Alice shakes her head. There's a hidden smile there, though.

I laugh it off. What they don't know is, I'm dead ass serious.

The laughter doesn't last long before a car speeds its way into the parking lot and screeches to a halt, causing everyone in our small party to jump back a few steps. I recognize the person behind the wheel as Ben, the man I used to think of as a devout Catholic and devoted fiancé.

"For Christ's sake," Bella mumbles once she sees who the driver is, and she doesn't stick around to welcome him into the group. Instead, she heads off with Alice to drop off a second load of clothes.

"What are you doing here, silly?" Angela asks Ben as he rushes over to her. "You're supposed to be helping Emmett with -"

"Rachel called, babe. It's bad. She has some kind of bridesmaid emergency. You left your phone at the house." He hands it to her, and she immediately steps away from the rest of us to call her friend.

Ben doesn't really seem too concerned, though. Instead, he looks bored and maybe a little annoyed, although I do catch him sneaking glances at Bella when he thinks the rest of the family's not looking.

"Oh my gosh, Mom. I have to go," Angela wails after she ends the call with her friend. "Rachel's dress is the wrong size, the wrong pattern, and the wrong color. It's _green_!" She's nearly in tears.

Renee is quick to console her. "It's fine dear, we'll manage here. Don't worry." She smiles and shoes her. "Go. Go!"

Everyone waits for Angela to leave with her fiancé, but he's oblivious and dumbfoundedly quiet. Distracted by the pavement… and Bella.

Alice pulls keys from her pocket and holds them out to Angela, who takes them and hurries to the front of the van. Ben is still cemented in place.

I'm annoyed he didn't offer to drive her himself.

Mostly because I'm fairly certain I know why.

"Bell, hey," he says quietly, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets as Bella pulls the remainder of the bags out of the Swan's van. "Got a minute?" he asks.

"No!" Mrs. Swan, Rose, and I answer in unison.

Alice stops short and gives us all a confused look. As Angela drives off, the rest of the Swan women turn toward me, each perplexed about why I would step into their family business like I did.

"I - we really need Bella's help setting up before everyone gets here," I explain.

"Well, yeah, but - you've got plenty of other people for that right?" Ben laughs. "This'll only take a -"

"Ben," Mrs. Swan interjects. "If Father Edward needs Bella's help, _that's _her priority, not you."

"Yeah," Rose adds. "And why didn't you give my sister a ride just now?"

_Exactly!_

"Wow." Bella says with a bitter laugh, interrupting everyone. "First of all, I don't need anyone to speak for me, guys," she tells her mother, Rose… and me.

Suddenly, I'm ashamed I assumed I had any right to speak for her at all. She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. It's one of the things I admire about her.

"And second?" She turns to Ben. Her eyes are blazing. This is different from the mild agitation I saw last night at dinner with her family. This goes deeper than a drunken kiss that was cut short.

"No. I don't '_got a minute_', Ben. Not now, not later, not tomorrow, _not ever. _Understand?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. She grabs the last of the bags off the ground, heaves them over her shoulders, and strides back toward the church leaving the rest of us there, feeling humbled.

At least, that's how I feel.

"That was harsh," Alice says, clearly baffled, before she follows her sister inside. Mrs. Swan and Rose each give Ben a pointed look before heading in themselves.

I put a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Sometimes we have to depend on others to deliver us from evil."

He looks shell shocked as he watches the women go off without him.

"Ben?" I ask. As he glances at me, I see a shadow of the man I've gotten to know a bit over these past weeks. A man determined to do the right thing. A man who talked about the institution of marriage and raising a family in the Catholic faith with zeal. I remind myself of the commitments _I've _made in the sessions I've had with him and Angela and the responsibilities I have to the both of them.

"If there's anything you need to talk about, I'm always available."

He nods, but I'm not entirely sure he's heard me.

"Come find me when you're ready," I say before following the Swans into the church.

In the basement of St. Mary's, parishioners are starting to organize for the fundraiser. Women smile and make a point to chit chat. Husbands shake my hand and compliment me on last week's sermon.

Usually I'd feel at home here. Content. Actually, more than content. Most mornings when I gather with others in service to the Lord, I feel absolutely lucky this is what I do for a living. That somehow I've found my calling and am a force for good in the world.

This morning I'm restless, though. Something is missing. As I glance around at all the well-meaning people milling around me, I know what it is. Or who.

Bella's not here.

And I think I know where to find her.

xXxXx

The sanctuary's dark and quiet. No one's expected here until Saturday mass later this evening. The pews are all empty. Candles flicker against the far wall. She's sitting on the edge of the altar, the extra decanter of wine in her hand.

As I clasp my hands behind me and begin walking toward her, I convince myself I sought her out because she might be hurting and I'm her priest, her confessor. Therefore, I should go to her. After all, the Lord's placed her in my path for a reason.

"Even sinful Catholic priests don't drink until noon, you know."

She doesn't look surprised to see me.

"Hey." She holds the bottle up and waves it at me. "You pointed me in this direction."

"That I did."

_Lord, Jesus Christ, please tell me if it's possible _not _to smile when I'm around her? _

"You get a load of that guy?" she asks.

I don't have to ask who she's referring to.

"Do you really think avoiding the issue is going to make it go away?"

"No," she says defensively. "I think Angela's the only one who can make him go away. So I told her. And it turns out, this whole situation is my drunken fault. And he's still here. Riddle me that."

I'm at the altar now. And it's awkward, trying to have a conversation with her from down here, so I hop up and sit next to her.

She offers me the wine. I take it.

She offers me a cigarette. I don't take that.

"Only one sin per day, Father?"

"It's one thing to smoke in the backyard of a parishioner's home, another entirely to smoke in the house of God."

She leans toward me. "FYI, my mom's not cool with smoking in her house either. For future reference."

"We were outside," I point out. Then I take a sip of the Malbec I was saving for a rainy day.

It appears today is the day. Early or not.

"And don't try to argue technicalities with my mom. It's not going to get you anywhere. I should know."

Handing the bottle back to her, I remind myself I'm here to help.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I know she does. I feel it. But whether she actually admits it is another thing.

She shakes her head. "Won't do any good. Thanks, though."

I don't want to push, but I don't want the conversation to end either. As she takes another sip of wine, I try to think of something else we can talk about. Then the tattoo shows itself again.

Like a sign from God.

"Wanna talk about that then?" I nod to it.

Bella rolls her eyes. "Are tattoos a sin now too? Eleventh commandment or something?"

I laugh at her innate ability to get offended by just about everything I say. "I was just curious if you were a musician."

She smiles, finally. And her smile - it just about manages to light up the entire sanctuary.

"Yeah. Technically on hiatus, I guess. As long as I manage to figure out my entire life, I'll head back out on the road after the wedding." She nudges me with her elbow and snickers. "Don't get me wrong, I'm no Fergie."

I'd be willing to bet she's a Fergie.

"So you play guitar? Or sing?"

"Both. At the same time. Pretty impressive, huh?"

"Well I don't know. I'd have to witness that to make a judgement call."

Bella looks at the ground, still grinning. It's difficult to tell in the dim light, but it looks like she's blushing.

Fuck_._

_Forgive me, Father._

"You still do that?" she asks. "Go to shows and stuff? Are priests allowed?" The question itself is enough to drag my thoughts away from dangerous waters.

"On occasion. Maybe." I lean in close to whisper. "But don't tell them." I jerk my head toward the statues of the saints lining the sanctuary.

Bella chuckles before taking another sip, then hands the wine back to me.

I can't believe I just admitted that out loud. Then again, yes, I can. It's been my impulse since the first time I spoke with her. I can't believe it was only yesterday.

"Back before the kiss, I was supposed to play at the wedding. Pretty sure it's not happening now."

"Their loss. And mine. I'd like to hear you."

Bella takes a deep breath before looking me in the eye. It looks like she's afraid to hope. And I'm honored she'd hope I could see her perform. At the same time, I want to take away her fear. If she'd let me.

"Why?" she asks, point blank.

"Why what?"

"Why me?"

"I don't know," I tell her truthfully. And somehow, this talk has taken a more intimate turn.

She bites her bottom lip. "I don't know, either," she admits. Then she smiles, a bright, dazzling smile. Her shoulders relax. She swings her feet. "Thanks."

"For the wine?"

"For being honest."

_Jesus_… I sigh. _Never mind_.

Bella holds my stare for a second… or an eternity.

"Listen," she says, and I do. I listen to her breathing. I try to hear her heartbeat. I know I hear mine beating like a bass drum.

She jumps off the altar, shaking me from my thoughts. "I should go help my sisters. Rose shouldn't even be here today. Too much heavy lifting and she might give birth right in the middle of the rummage sale."

She turns toward me as she walks up the aisle. "You coming, Father?"

I want to. I want to follow her down the aisle, out of the church, and anywhere else she wants to take me. The way my heart thumps inside my chest says I'm only a moment away from doing just that.

Galatians five, verse sixteen stops me.

_Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. _

"No, I'm… I think I'll just clean up the mess you've made of my ambry."

"You could just call it a cabinet, you know," she teases.

"That wouldn't be very Godly of me, though."

Her laughter fills the entire sanctuary. It echoes off the walls and sends goosebumps down my arms.

"Ambry it is, then," she declares a little louder. "If you're what Godly looks like, I want to make sure you stay this way."

I'm still smiling like an idiot as she turns to leave. Still trying to breathe. As soon as she's gone, the smile fades because there's nothing funny about what she's doing to me.

"Fuck."

The word reverberates through the church. I don't bother asking forgiveness. The Big Guy will hear my laundry list later.

I sit for a while and think about how Bella's eyes sparkle when she talks about the things she loves. She loves her music and her family. She does not love Ben Cheney. I shouldn't be thinking about how that sparkle makes me want things I haven't considered for years. Because her eyes also seem to sparkle when she talks about me.

I set the decanter down and lean forward with my elbows on my knees. I put my face in my hands. "Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_."

I've comforted people before. I've listened to them complain, then listened to them ask forgiveness. I've talked them down from ledges. I've held them while they cried in remorse, and I've helped them to make it right. I've steered them back to the word of God over and over again.

Since committing myself to His service, it's been all I've needed.

Until yesterday, when suddenly I felt the need for more.

Until yesterday, I never wanted to cup someone's face gently in my hands.

I never wanted to gaze into their eyes.

I never wanted to press my lips against theirs.

_Her_s.

Bella's lips.

My body shudders at the mere thought.

I close my eyes and imagine it. Sliding a hand around her waist. Pulling her body flush with mine. Leaning in.

"Shit."

I shake my head and push dark thoughts out of my mind because _fucking hell. _ I'm her priest. Her confessor. I'm supposed to be trustworthy.

I don't want to be the second man in as many days to take advantage of her. I'm her refuge from all of that.

And I couldn't stand to see the sparkle in her eyes fade when she looks at me.

I bow my head in prayer.

_Forgive me Father, for entertaining these ideas. _

_Show me the way._

_Please. Show me the fucking way. _

_Any way, Other than this._

"Are you okay?"

"Father?" I ask.

I open my eyes, stunned to see who He's sent me. And I'm completely and utterly relieved.

"Not quite." He chuckles.

"Jasper." I say it like a prayer. Like a thank you to God for hearing me. Because if anyone can help me through this temptation, it's the man who's been my mentor since I was a kid, the man who practically raised me after my parents died.

The man who taught me what it means to be a priest.

He smiles and drops his duffle next to him, radiating concern as he approaches the altar.

"You look troubled, Ed," he says.

He has no fucking idea.

* * *

_**BLESSED BE the following ladies: Hotteaforme and Iambeagle - for rec'ing Father Edward & FleaBella this past week on their stories: White Noise and Kiss Me, You Idiot. And um, if by some chance you aren't reading either of these yet, you might wanna get on that. Because they are both sofa-king good. **_

_**ALSO: Thanks so damn much to SueBee for her beta-fairy skills. Woman's a saint. To Chrisann for anointing this chapter with Holy oil. And to readers for being here for this. We'll see you all next Tuesday for Chapter 7! **_


	8. Chapter 7 Holy Order

**Chapter 7. Holy Order **

**Bella**

I wander into the kitchen after dinner. Alice is concentrating on loading the dishwasher. I check the fridge. No beer. I check the liquor cabinet. Not even wine. I guess we finished it off at dinner, which was much more chill than last night, partly because I didn't have to contend with Ben and Rosalie and partly because Angela was distracted by the Bridesmaid Catastrophe of 2019.

It was also partly because Mom laid off it for once. She smiled at me from across the table from time to time, even, and bragged to dad about how I'd helped out at church.

I know she thinks it's all because of her. She thinks she's saved my soul from the depths of hell by forcing me to go to confession. Of course, she's about as far off base as she could possibly get. I mean, she's right about confession improving my overall mood. She would throw me out of the house all over again if she knew the reason behind it.

Lusting after a priest is maybe not the worst thing I've ever done. But it's up there. Or down there, if I'm thinking spiritually.

As a kid, I would have thrown this ungodly fact in Mom's face just to prove she was wrong. Now I just want to keep the peace until I can get out of town. And the more I hang around the house, the more likely she is to see I'm still a tried and true sinner. Just like I've always been. Maybe a little worse.

"Hey, Alice, what are you doing after those dishes?"

"What?" Alice asks, looking up from the sink and pulling a pair of earbuds from her ears.

It occurs to me I don't have the faintest idea what kind of music she might be listening to. I wish I knew her better.

Alice is four years younger, give or take. As the baby of the family, Mom and Dad spoiled her. In return, she followed every single one of their rules, ever. And also wanted to save the planet. And every homeless person we passed on the street. It's like all of Mom's holiness was channeled into my baby sister, and she did it better than Mom and the rest of us combined.

Hanging out with Alice might actually be a little intimidating. But, hey, maybe she'll help keep me out of trouble. I can't seem to do it on my own these days.

"It's Saturday night. You want to do something?" I ask. "Maybe head to Billy's?"

Alice's eyes go wide. "Jake's bar? Me?"

"If you don't want to go to a bar we could -"

"I go to bars. Sometimes."

I raise an eyebrow. "Sure you do, Alice."

"I went to one with Angela and Lauren for my birthday. It's not _exactly_ my thing. They're so dark and noisy." Alice scrunches up her nose in disgust.

"We could do something else. What do you usually do for fun on a Saturday?"

"Well, I, uh-" Alice wrings her hands and can't quite look me in the eye.

"Is it a secret?"

"No, it's just, I, uh-"

"Oh my God. Spit it out. Do you mine bit coin in your bedroom? Are you an online dominatrix?"

The color drains from Alice's face. "I go to mass, okay?"

"Church? On Saturday? Don't you go on Sunday with the family?"

She shrugs her shoulders.

"We just spent the entire morning at church. Live a little. Let me corrupt you just the tiniest bit. And maybe you'll rub off on me so I stop screwing up everyone's life?"

Alice laughs and dries her hands off on a dish towel. "Don't be so dramatic. You haven't screwed up my life."

I arch an eyebrow. "Don't tempt me."

"And I don't think I have anything to wear to a bar."

"Leave that to me, sister."

It's fun dressing Alice up in stuff I have lying around from tour. With a clingy sweater, a short skirt, and a cute pair of boots, she looks her age for once. I let her pick the music as I doll her up. Turns out she's a Taylor Swift kind of girl. She sings along to 1989 as I teach her how to apply the perfect cat eye eyeliner and how to contour to accentuate her pretty bone structure.

"You look fierce," I decide, proud of my handiwork.

"I don't know, Bella. Are you sure?" she asks, looking herself over in the mirror.

"I may be a sinner, but I'm no liar. Wait 'til the boys at Billy's get a look at you."

Alice is still a little unsure about the whole idea as we walk into Billy's Place. She's got her arms folded across her chest, and she's wearing a jacket baggy enough to double as a cloak.

"You have nothing to worry about," I try to reassure her as we step up to the bar. "Jake's like family. He'd never let anything happen to you."

As if on cue, Jake is suddenly in front of us, smiling from ear to ear. "It's the two prettiest ladies in all of Sheepshead Bay," he says, sliding a glass in front of me.

"What can I get you?" he asks Alice.

"What about Bella?"

"He knows what I'm having," I reply, tipping my empty glass toward Jake.

"That I do," he says with a wink, then turns around and reaches for the topmost shelf.

"Woah, woah, woah!" I shout, pulling my glass out of the way before he can fill it with Macallan. "We both know I can't afford this."

Jake leans across the bar in my direction and flashes me his winning smile. "It's my treat since you said you'd be my date."

"What date?" Alice asks.

"You know, Jake, if you pay me, it turns it into a whole other kind of date."

He looks a little ruffled as he pours me a finger. "You'll find a way to pay me back."

"And if you're implying what I think you're implying, you're still in that other kind of date category."

Jake rolls his eyes but places the Macallan back on the top shelf. He returns with Johnny Walker Gold. "Better?" he asks.

"I can live with that."

"Still on? Still a date?" he asks hopefully.

I nod and sip at my scotch. It goes down warm and smooth. My limbs feel looser, like all the tension of the past few days is just sliding away. I find myself smiling up at Jake. I know I'm mostly smiling because of the scotch. I should be smiling because Jake knows what I like and wants to take care of me. "Still a date."

"Ahem." Alice clears her throat.

Jake and I both jump a little.

"Alice, sorry. What's your poison? Cosmo? Chardonnay?" Jake asks.

Alice hops up on a barstool and looks back and forth between Jake and I with this huge grin on her face. "I'll have what Bella's having."

"Really?" he asks.

Alice shrugs. "Why not?"

"You heard the woman, Jake."

"That I did." He slides another glass of scotch in Alice's direction, then gets us both two glasses of water, like this is a classy kind of joint.

"You should probably -"

Alice slams back the drink and immediately starts coughing.

"- take it slow." I finish saying.

My little sister looks like her head's going to explode. She's all red, and her eyes are watering, and I think she's broken out in a sweat. She chugs the water, then shakes her head.

"You actually like that?" she asks when she manages to catch her breath.

xXxXx

"So, you and Jake?" Alice asks, once we're settled at a booth in the back and I've coaxed Alice out of her giant jacket.

I shrug. "Maybe?"

"Yeah, right. Do bartenders always hand out whole bottles of liquor to their patrons?" she asks, pushing the bottle of scotch in my direction.

"Maybe?" I try again.

Alice laughs at me and pours herself another drink. A double, strictly speaking.

"Kind of feels warm all the way down to my toes," she says with a shudder, trying to cover up the coughing this time around.

"What's gotten into you?" I ask.

I pray the answer isn't me.

I don't really pray.

But then, on second thought, I give it a shot.

_Dear God, Please don't let me be the only reason my little sister's getting drunk off her ass._

"Well," Alice says, then takes another gulp of her drink. Then another. "It's been really tense around the house."

I let out a sigh of relief. It's not me. "What's new, right? I don't know how you and Angela have made it this long."

Alice shakes her head. "No, this feels different. Something's up with Angela. I mean, I know the wedding's stressful. But there's something else, I think. No one will tell me."

I pour myself another shot and drink it down.

Of course it's my fault. As always.

I guess it would be out of character for God to start answering my prayers all of the sudden.

"You think Ben's good for Angela?" I ask. I can't be the only one who sees this marriage looks doomed, can I?

"Oh my God, Angela loves Ben," Alice says with a dreamy look in her eyes. "Ever since high school. All through college."

"But why?"

"Can you help who you love?" Alice asks earnestly.

And suddenly I'm back on the road on Mike's bus and we're naked for the first time and he holds my face in his hands and tells me how he's wanted it from the first time he saw me. And I tell him I love him. The words just spill out in this haze of lust, gratitude, and too much tequila. And he hears my confession and kisses me like he means it and pushes himself inside.

I told myself it meant he loved me too.

"I wish," I say, with a look toward the bar.

Jake catches my eye and grins. Why won't my heart do what's best? I only feel guilt as I wave back at him, defeated by my own rebellious emotions.

Alice pounds back another glass of scotch and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She's holding onto the booth, probably so she doesn't topple onto the floor. Kiddo's drinking me under the table tonight.

"So, um, Bella, you ever have anything you can't tell anyone?" she asks me out of the blue.

"Ha! Like every single day of my life."

"No, no, no." She shakes her head vehemently and holds out a finger. "Like one particular thing. Something that could change everything in your whole world. Something that would make your whole family hate you?"

"Alice, there's absolutely nothing you could do to make Mom and Dad hate you. That's crazy."

All of the sudden, Alice is blinking quickly, like she's trying to hold back tears. I grab her hand from across the table. "There's nothing you could do to make _me_ hate you. You know that, right?"

She smiles a little and wipes at her eyes. "Thanks. It means a lot." Her nose is running, and she starts rummaging through her pockets. I steal a clean napkin from the table next to us and slide it across to Alice.

"Now stop it," I tell her. "_I'm_ the bad kid. I'm the one everyone hates."

"I know!" Alice wails. Then starts crying for real. Sobbing, shoulders shaking, her mascara sliding down her wet cheeks.

At first, I'm not really sure what to do. My little sister drank half a bottle of scotch and is drowning in a puddle of her own tears. I slip out of the booth and walk around to her side, then awkwardly take her into my arms. I shush her like I've seen Rose shush her babies. It seems to work with Alice too. She collapses against me and lets me hold her.

When her sobs have turned more to hiccups, I pat her back, push her hair behind her ears, and wipe the mascara from her face.

"I let you take grief from everyone instead of me," she says, which makes no sense at all. "I'm really sorry, Bella. It's not fair. I'm not brave like you are."

I laugh, and Alice is looking at me so sad and serious I laugh some more. "I'm not brave, Alice. I'm reckless. I'm inconsiderate and I make every wrong choice possible."

"But you make a choice and you see it through." She stares at her hands in her lap. "Not me," she whispers.

"Did you secretly fail out of college?"

"No! 4.0 GPA."

"Are you slowly poisoning Mom?"

Alice frowns up at me. "I like Mom."

"Did Ben kiss you too?"

"What?"

"Never mind," I say quickly.

"Is it okay if I don't say?" she asks. "I thought maybe tonight, but I don't know if this is the right time or place, really."

I look around the crowded neighborhood bar. It's noisy enough that no one can hear us. Crowded enough that no one's paying any attention. "It's definitely dark and dank. Billy's is kind of perfect as a confessional."

"I don't know," Alice says, glancing around her like she's seeing my old hangout through new, drunken eyes.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but have you thought about telling Father Edward?" I suggest. "He's pretty good with this kind of thing."

Alice smiles at me. It's a real smile, so wide it takes up her whole face. Not that sad kind of smile she was sporting a minute ago. She sighs. "I did, actually."

I don't know why I'm surprised. Alice is on St. Mary's like white on rice. And I don't know why I'm a little… jealous? Maybe?

Yes, I'm jealous Father Edward and Alice have secrets of their own. Even though I know it's his job. He keeps people's confidence. And he makes people smile.

"Did it help?" I ask, although I have a sneaking suspicion I know the answer.

"He told me it's complicated. And he told me he didn't have a good answer."

I nod. "Sounds like him."

"But he also told me what he personally thinks about it all. It helped even though it didn't help. Does that make any sense?"

"He's hot, right?"

"Bella!" Alice nearly shouts.

"Oh, come on. Don't 'Bella' me. Dude's smokin'."

"I never really thought of him that way."

Of course she hasn't. _Hello_. The guy's a priest and Alice is the most religious twenty-one year old in Brooklyn.

I take a sip of my scotch as I'm thinking it over.

"Which dude?"

And spit the drink out all over the table.

Father Edward and another priest are standing next to our booth, each with a half-empty pint in their hands. Father's grinning and, you guessed it, he's totally, undeniably hot. He's got his collar on, which makes it so much worse… and better.

Shit.

Alice didn't save me tonight.

I'm still going to hell.

"Come on, tell me, I can keep a secret." Father Edward looks between me and Alice. Then he flashes those God-forsaken, hazel eyes in my direction.

And fuck.

Alice's face is beet red. I know she can't tell a lie, so I have to think fast.

"This isn't confessional, Father," I remind him.

"I hope not. I don't usually drink in the confessional." Father Edward laughs. The other one, not so much.

Alice coughs. I think her eyes are going to bug out of her head.

"How was mass tonight, Father?" she asks. "Sorry I missed it."

"Oh, you know, same old same old." He laughs like he's nervous.

What is wrong with him?

"It was better than that," the other priest says. "The parable about spreading God's seed was a good reminder for us all."

"Spreading seed?" I ask, inadvertently eyeing Father Edward's pants. The ones equipped to give his parishioners what they need. When they need it.

The good Father nearly chokes on his beer.

The other priest pats him on the back. "Do you know the Gospel according to Mark?" he asks me. Like he just assumes I'm a bible scholar. Or really into seeds.

Alice giggles and it turns into a hiccup.

I laugh out loud. "Who's your friend?" I ask the Father, all the while wondering how I ended up in an alternate universe where I'm just hanging with two priests on a Saturday night.

"Sorry, this is Bishop Whitlock. He oversees our diocese."

My little sister hiccups again and Father Edward looks at her curiously.

"Alice, are you drunk?" he asks.

"Forgive me, Father," I say in a breathy impersonation of a penitent parishioner. "I got my sister wasted."

"Like you said, Bella-" He's staring at me like I'm the only person in this bar. "This isn't confessional."

And whew boy, I can't look away. He's trapped me with his eyes. "No, it certainly isn't," I manage to reply. Barely.

"Well, now that that's settled," the bishop says with a laugh. "You mind if we sit?"

Alice looks like she might pass out. I think maybe this is all she's ever wanted, but the last thing in the world she wants, all at the same time.

"Alice?" I ask. I nod my head toward the holy men. "Your call."

"No, um, I, well -"

"We can find another table," Father Edward says. He pats the bishop on the back, like he's telling him they should move on. Of course he's polite. Stupid, hot, polite priest.

"Please stay?" I ask, a little louder than I intended. The priests turn back toward our booth. Father Edward smiles. I die a little inside.

I raise my glass. "It's not every day I get to drink with two men of the cloth." It's my attempt to play it cool.

"No, it's usually just one," Father Edward says, slipping into the booth across from me.

"Don't get ahead of yourself with the 'usually', buddy. It's only been the last couple days."

"Feels much longer," he says quietly. Just to me.

I'm not actually sure he meant to say those last few words out loud, but he's right. It's strange, but I kind of feel like I've known him forever.

For a minute, it feels like it's just us here. My face warms, my foot taps. Then, just like that, his holy friend breaks the connection by clearing his throat.

"Edward, perhaps you should introduce me to your parishioners?"

Father Edward sits up a little straighter. He rubs at the back of his neck and almost acts like a regular priest for a minute. Like this is any other day in the life of Father Edward. In a bar. With a pint.

Nice try, Father.

"You remember Charles Swan, right? he asks.

"Ah, yes," the bishop says. "Good man."

He's right. Dad's the best. I smile in approval at Bishop Whitlock.

"These are two of his daughters," Father Edward says. "Alice and Bella."

"So, you two hang out like this often?" I ask, before taking a sip of my scotch.

And I've gone from sounding like I was trying to pick up one priest at a family dinner, to trying to pick up two in a bar. _Christ Almighty_.

"Oh, we go way back," the bishop says with a smile, eyeing the sex on a stick seated next to him.

I wonder just how far.

Fergie far?

Farther?

"I know Bishop Whitlock from before..." Father Edward taps his white collar.

"How do you feel about The Black Eyed Peas, Bishop Whitlock?" I ask.

And now it's Father Edward who's spitting out his drink.

"Who?" the bishop replies.

So, post-Fergie, pre-priest, maybe? Or maybe it's something he never told Bishop Whitlock. Maybe it's a sin he's only shared with me?

"What was he like back then?" I ask the bishop as Father Edward grabs a napkin and wipes the alcohol from the table.

"In a word? Trouble."

Alice laughs, Bishop Whitlock laughs. I'm not laughing. I'm imagining what it would have been like to get into trouble with him. And Father Edward is…

Is he blushing?

"What brand of trouble?" I ask the bishop, but I only have eyes for Father Edward. He's definitely blushing. He tries to hide it by taking a long swig of his beer. The whole beer.

"Bella," Alice says, and she kind of breaks the spell the Father has over me. _Again_. It keeps on happening.

"Yeah?"

"Isn't it kind of late? I have church in the morning."

"So do they," I say, nodding toward the men across from us. I could sit here all night. We could talk about sins. Mine. His. He could lay bible verses on me until the early morning hours.

"Good point actually," Father Edward says as he sets his empty pint glass down. "I can always count on Alice to keep me on the straight and narrow." He gives her a friendly smile.

That strange jealous feeling rears its head again. He has a relationship with my sister I'll never have. Not like I want to have a crazy connection to the Catholic church, mind you. Until yesterday, I hadn't stepped into a church in years.

I just wish… I wish I was different and he was different. Maybe.

"Will you also be joining us tomorrow, Bella?" Father Edward asks.

"Absolutely," I reply without hesitation, surprising myself. "I really want to hear what you have to say."

And it's the honest to God truth.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still going to hell.

* * *

**A/N: The alternate title for this chapter was An Alcoholic, a Priest, and a Bishop Walk Into a Bar. Jo and I just about died when we realized Jasper had to be called Bishop Whitlock. It sounds like a sex position to if you ask me… And then he tried to pull a bishop whitlock! Who does he think he is? **

**Anyway, as always, we worship SueBee & her beta skills, and want to make sure we sing the praises of ChrisAnn for putting in extra time for research this week. Until next week…**


	9. Chapter 8 Poverty, Chastity, & Obedience

**Chapter 08. Poverty, Chastity, & Obedience **

**Father Cullen**

_Forgive me, Lord, for wanting to ditch Jasper and spend the remainder of the evening with Bella Swan._

_And bless Alice. Give her peace. And maybe a sign that she's unconditionally loved. _

When Jasper showed up at church this morning, I was so sure he was an answer to my prayers. Now I'm not certain I can bear to tell him what's troubling me. I have so much to confess.

Like how I was so preoccupied thinking about Bella during mass, I didn't even notice Alice wasn't there.

How finding Bella in William Black's bar was the highlight of my evening.

And how I suspect she might be dating Jacob. It would make sense. And he's a good man, so it shouldn't trouble me. But it does.

"Interesting bar," Jasper says, pulling me out of my own head.

I hum. I nod. I study the ground very intently.

"Great meeting some of your congregation, they're quite… colorful."

Colorful is the perfect word for Bella. Maybe not her clothes - from what I've seen they're mostly gray and black. But her personality, her expressions, the little strip of blue in her hair, and her language are all extremely colorful. I add it to the growing list of words I use when I think of her.

"So what's got you so twisted up, Edward?"

I shake my head. "Just thinking about tonight's sermon, I guess."

"Terrific examples you gave for that parable, by the way."

_Terrific examples. _

I know the story refers to spreading God's word.

I know that.

But right now, I'm recalling the glint in Bella's eye and the smirk on her lips when she asked about spreading seeds back at the bar. And that it had nothing to do with spreading God's word.

It never used to mean anything like that to me before. Why would it? But now it's all I can think about.

That, and how anything of the sort is off the table for a Catholic priest.

"Thank you, Jasper."

"But no." He studies me for a moment, eyes narrowing. "It's something else."

I used to be grateful for his intuitive nature when I was younger, when it meant I didn't have to spell all of my feelings out for him every time we met. Now I'm wishing it wasn't so keen.

My steps quicken once I see the rectory, almost like I'm trying to run from Jasper's question. Almost like I don't want God's guidance.

"So, you gonna spill or what?" Jasper asks once we're inside.

He kicks his boots off, sits at the table and makes himself comfortable as I get us a couple of beers from the fridge. Eying me the entire time.

I twist the top off of mine and drink.

And he waits.

He's good at this. Always has been.

It still manages to piss me off.

"Nothing to tell," I finally say.

_Forgive me, Lord. I don't know how to confess this to him yet. _

"Okay." He chuckles before taking a swig of his beer.

Jasper sees right through me. He always has.

And he waits some more because he's patient. And a know it all.

"What brought you here?" I might be talking to Jasper, but I'm really questioning the Lord. Jasper seems to know this, and he doesn't look pleased.

"_God_ pointed me in your direction today. And it's been a while. I wanted to see how you were."

"And?"

"And..." He swallows down more of his drink. "It seems He hasn't led me astray. It seems you could use some counsel."

"And what did God want you to tell me?"

"I have a feeling that's not the question you want to ask."

I finish my beer and set it down. I have a staring contest with it forever and a day before I finally swallow my pride.

"Ever… struggle with a member of your congregation before?"

"I struggle daily, Edward. It's part of the job."

"You never seem like it."

"Also part of the job." He smiles and tilts his beer toward me then takes a sip. As he drinks, I try to find a way to admit my failures to him.

Jasper leans back and eyes me like he can see every sinful thought inside my mind.

It makes me shift in my chair.

"You know we all have our trials and tribulations, Ed."

I try to grin. I don't want him to know how much I'm floundering here. He knows I'm non-traditional and I know he went out on a limb for me. I don't want him to think it was a mistake. I _hope_ it wasn't a mistake.

It wasn't a mistake.

"Hell, I never thought I'd be a bishop but… here I am," he says.

His word choice takes me aback. In a good way. "Hell? You go rogue and not tell me about it, Jasper?"

"Hell's a place."

"But you're using it like you're swearing."

He shrugs. "You've got me there."

"Have I finally convinced you, _Your Eminence_?" It's the proper way to address a bishop, but I'm teasing. Jasper grins and the mood between us lightens a bit.

"I've always seen a little bit of myself in you, Ed. Some day, you could even be in my shoes."

Me? A bishop? One look at Jasper and I know my reaction is all wrong. I should be excited, eager to take him up on the opportunity.

Humbled.

And just a month ago, I would have been all those things.

A month ago I would have asked him, _why not now? _

A month ago, Bella wasn't here.

"Every time I visit, I can see how much your parishioners look up to you. How you support them, comfort them."

Jasper's not helping.

He thinks I'm being modest. He thinks I feel undeserving. And technically, I am.

"Do you remember back in the days at St. Vincent's?" I ask. "When Tyler Crowley used to sneak into the pantry at night, well after lights out?"

Jasper sets his beer down and I see the same man I met so many years ago.

The first friendly face I saw at St. Vincent's Home for Boys, where they sent me after my parents' car accident. The man that taught me getting the belt for saying your prayers wrong wasn't how God showed His love. Or that skipping out on communion didn't mean you missed out on dinner. That parents weren't always right, and kids weren't always wrong.

"How could I forget Tyler?"

And that you could steal chocolate and live to tell the tale.

"Without fail, you'd give him demerits the day after, because we weren't supposed to eat after lights out."

Eventually, I taught him a few things too. Like how you can be yourself and still be a priest without having to conform to the world's idea about what a priest acts like. And how maybe some of the church's traditions don't quite fit into modern society.

Jasper shakes his head. "I remember. The boy liked Hershey bars too much for his own good."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

I swallow.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you just stop buying us chocolate? Or lock the pantry? You knew he'd go after it. You saw him. He had to sneak past your office to get there."

Jasper takes a deep breath in and lets it out as he studies me carefully. "Why did God put delicious apples in the Garden of Eden if he knew Eve would eat one?"

That's easy. "She ate them of her own free will."

"There ya go," he says. "Answered your own question." He takes another drink and finishes off his beer this time.

"But he set her up. He purposefully let her choose something that was disastrous for her."

"Was it?"

His question surprises me. Jasper's not typically one to play devil's advocate. For him, there's God's way, and then there's God's way.

"Ultimately. Yeah. It got her - and Adam - kicked out of the garden of Eden."

"And yet they were still able to practice their faith in God outside the garden." He eyes my beverage. "You need another?"

"Yeah." I hand him my empty bottle and he gets up to grab two more beers from the fridge.

"With knowledge, people were better able to appreciate God's power, understand his dominion over all things. It gave them a reason to strive to be better - to get back to paradise."

He hands me my beer and taps it with his before he sits down again.

"It also led to the creation of the human race. We wouldn't be here today without Eve seeing Adam, and him seeing her, and them lusting after each other."

I swear I've never heard this side of him before.

"People can choose to follow the straight and narrow, surrender themselves to God's will. This brings us closer to paradise, or … they might stray. And Edward, everyone strays, one way or another. It's a more difficult path, but it can still turn out good in the end."

I can't quite wrap my head around the message Jasper's trying to teach me.

"Something you're trying to tell me, here, Edward?" He asks me with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Or did you just need a refresher on original sin?"

I belt down half my beer.

My nerves take over and I spill the drink all over my shirt.

"Fuck."

Jasper shakes his head but he's smiling at least. "Always the rebel."

I set the beer down and go to get a shirt out of the laundry room.

"It's just a word, Jasper," I call out as I find the tee I'm looking for.

"Intention is the key!" he adds, quoting myself back to me. "You know you should have published your research paper. Could have made a world of difference in the number of confessions we hear each year."

By the time I join him again, I'm laughing for the first time since we left the bar.

"So many hours proving you had every right to curse up a storm and no fulfillment in proving it to anyone."

"I only wanted to prove it to myself," I remind him.

"And to me," he adds.

And he's right. His approval has always meant the world to me, which is why this is so difficult.

Something catches his attention as I pull the shirt over my head. Then he nods to the words inked on my upper chest. "They still mean something to you?"

"Of course," I reply without having to think about it. Within hours of saying my vows, I'd had them permanently etched where I'd see them every day. Where I could remind myself of what I promised God.

Poverty. Chastity. Obedience.

And I've kept those ideals close to my heart ever since. I've never wavered.

Until, that is, two days ago when Bella entered my confessional.

"Why do I have a feeling you don't mean that?" His question is sincere. The worried look on his face says it all.

I sit back down at the table and wrap my hands around my beer, but I don't take another drink yet. I keep a keen eye on the label.

"You addicted to chocolate, Edward?" he asks me, a bit hesitant. Like maybe he doesn't want to know the answer.

"Not exactly."

It's quiet between the two of us for a few minutes. I don't know if he's debating or praying.

Probably praying.

I know I am.

For the strength to put my pride aside and confess my shortcomings.

"We didn't end up at Billy's bar by accident tonight," I tell him honestly. Finally. And in one sense, it's like lifting a weight off of my soul. But it's more complicated than that. It's more than being riddled with guilt. It's exciting. And it's terrifying at the same time. It's agonizing and amazing. And I'm relieved that I can finally look him in the eye and talk about all of it.

Jasper gazes back at me with sincere concern and nods like he already knew. "Charlie Swan's daughter, I take it?"

I shrug. And I'm ashamed of myself for letting him down. But I'm also dying to tell him more.

"The small one you seemed so concerned about? With the hiccups?"

"Ye-" I stop when I realize he's referring to Alice. "No."

He seems surprised. "The one with the earrings, then?" he asks.

I nod some more.

Because yes, the earrings, and the tattoo. And the quick wit, the self-doubt, the intoxicating laugh, and the endearing smile. All of it. Everything about her tempts me like I haven't been tempted since I crushed on Professor Susan Clearwater back in college.

"I might have been hoping to run into Bella there." And I fight the urge to smile like I do every time I see her, speak to her... Or even hear her name.

He tents his hands, leaning them against his chin. He closes his eyes and his expression turns pensive. I've seen this look so many times before. Not with me, though. He's never had to worry about my faith.

Until now.

"Don't worry, Ed." He leans forward, puts a hand on my shoulder, and looks me in the eye. "He'll get you through this." Then his eyes glance upward like he's already started praying for me.

The conversation is over. And I'm a little disappointed.

"I hope so." I breathe. I'm not entirely sure I mean it. I'd rather tell him more about Bella.

Jasper gives me a disapproving look.

"I have faith He will." I correct myself.

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins -" he begins.

"- and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," I finish quietly.

"If you're not comfortable with St. Mary's, Edward, we can -"

"No, no, I'm comfortable. More than I thought I would be. I thought I wanted out of Brooklyn, but this congregation welcomed me with open arms."

"I wasn't convinced you were ready for your own parish, but you jumped into this without hesitation."

"I was ready. I _am _ready."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"You don't sound sure today."

And the defiant kid in me wants to tell him I have no doubts. I don't. Being a priest is the only thing I ever wanted with absolute certainty. It was the easiest choice I ever had to make. It's what I'm good at. Where I fit.

And St. Mary's is perfect. Small enough. Private enough. I can push boundaries and still play by the rules.

A perfect combination of God's rules and my own.

Jasper narrows his eyes, almost like he's deciding whether or not to say something else. Or maybe he's deciding whether or not I want to hear it.

"I was contacted about a position I thought might be perfect for you, you know."

"Yeah?"

He's piqued my interest. Kind of.

"There's a parish with an opening for a priest. In Europe."

And suddenly, my heart stops. Because it's the bishop thing all over again.

_A month ago…_

"Maybe it's an opportunity to take the chocolate out of the cupboard," he suggests. And he watches me carefully as I let it sit.

And sit. And sit.

Is that what I want? It should be what I want. It might have been what I wanted. _A month ago._

He sees me struggling, so, Jasper being Jasper, he offers me a way out of this conversation. For the time being. "You don't have to decide now. But you have to admit, God seems to be opening doors for you."

I don't respond as he yawns big and long.

"You tired, old man?" I ask him, happy to change the subject.

Jasper chuckles. "The spirit is willing, but sometimes the body is weak I guess. We can talk more tomorrow." He stands and stretches. He reaches for his bag. " You heading up too?" he asks.

"Oh... No. I've got to review tomorrow's homily." He gives me a look. He knows I'm typically on top of things. He knows that normally I would have had it done and re-written three times by now.

I shrug. "Edits."

I laugh it off, but the sound dies in the back of my throat. The truth is, I've still got to write the damned thing. And it would be easy to blame this on Bella, to chalk it up to the way I let thoughts about her distract me from each and every task I should be doing. But I refuse to add my name to the list of people unfairly blaming her for their failures.

I will, however, add myself to the list of people grateful to meet another enthusiastic rule-breaker. Albeit, she's one who doesn't seem to have found the unconditional acceptance she deserves. Yet.

And then... I believe I know the ideal parable to share this time.

At least I hope so.

* * *

**A/N: Dear Meg, we hope there was enough sweetness in this one for you. Now… all you need to do is have Bella open up the letter from Edward, and no one gets hurt. And to Hotteaforme, all we have to say is, #freeMasen.**

**THANKS to SueBee and her Beta-fairiness. To ChrisAnn for blessing this chapter, and to you all for reading, leaving thoughts that make us giggle-snort, and playing along with this heresy. **

**Jo's on the road this week, so feel free to send a review to keep me company through these lonely, dark days ahead. Bella's POV is coming Friday!**


	10. Chapter 9 Temperance

**Chapter 9. Temperance**

**Bella**

I wake up early and brew a big pot of strong coffee. I start to fry a couple eggs to go with it. Alice is going to need all the help she can get if she really wants to make it to mass. And if I know Alice, she _really_ wants to make it to mass. Then I realize I could use a bite, and there are three other adults in this house.

Before I know it, I've got bacon in the oven, and toast in the toaster, and lots more eggs going on the stovetop while I'm grooving out to _Monkey Business_.

What? I listen to The Black Eyed Peas sometimes.

Maybe.

Anyway, I have fun thinking about a young Father Edward getting down. I'm kind of dying to see it. I can't really picture a priest dancing, except like how Father Volturi danced with Grandma at Rose's wedding.

Which brings me to thoughts of Angela's wedding, less than two weeks away.

I haven't looked at the text from Ben that I woke up to this morning. I don't want to know what it says.

I wonder if Father Edward could smooth things over with Ben and Angela.

I wonder if he _should_.

He probably doesn't know all about me and Ben. And when I showed up at confession the other day, there was no way I was talking to anyone about my shit. But now I really want to let go of the guilt I've been carrying around for years.

Of course, I don't know if it's possible to truly let go of guilt - Catholic upbringing here.

But I'd like to try.

And I know who I'd like to try it with.

I have a sinking feeling that if I opened up and told him everything, it would put so much more distance between Father Edward and me. It would be one more reason I could never be as close to him as Alice is.

Which is probably good. My thoughts about Father Edward are impure, to say the least.

Despite everything, I can't help daydreaming about him standing up at the altar at Angela and Ben's wedding. I'm sure he'll be at the reception. Probably drinking. Who am I kidding, of course drinking. And maybe he'll ask Mom or Alice to dance. Maybe he'll ask me. With just the idea of it, I feel raw inside - sad and happy all at once. And I wish I was something I don't want to be at all.

"Are you crying?" Mom asks as she walks into the kitchen and clicks off the stereo.

"What? No! Slaving over a hot stove. You know how it goes," I say, dramatically wiping my forehead (along with my eyes) for cover.

Mom laughs a little and starts to hum as she putters around the kitchen, checking on things. She hums a little louder as she pulls out plates and silverware.

"Mom?"

"Mm hmm?" she asks between bars of a very catchy chorus, if I do say so myself.

"Mom?"

She stops bustling. "Yes?"

"Were you humming one of my songs?"

She smiles. "I suppose I was."

"You've even listened to one of my songs?"

"Do you know the YouTube?" she asks me. "On the computer?"

I'm pretty sure my eyes pop out of my head. "You follow me on YouTube?"

"They're all over there. One song even has ninety-six thousand likes."

"Have you liked my posts?"

"Bella, eggs! You don't want to go to all this trouble then let them burn."

I sneak glances at my mother as I try to concentrate on the pan in front of me. "Have you listened to the lyrics?" I cringe at the thought.

Mom's noncommittal as she takes the plates into the dining room to set the table, and before I know it, the rest of the family finds their way down to breakfast. Angela's ignoring me again. Dad's just glad there's food. Mom's beaming at me like I negotiated world peace, instead of just making Sunday breakfast. It's unsettling.

Alice looks positively green. All except her eyes, which are completely bloodshot. I take a seat next to her.

"You should eat," I whisper in her ear.

Alice winces then shakes her head slowly.

"I promise it'll make you feel better."

Hung over or not, my little sister manages a pretty good side eye.

"I could slip some whiskey into your coffee. You know, hair of the dog?"

"What's that, girls?" Mom asks.

"Bella's trying to get Alice drunk at breakfast," Angela says as she picks at the food on her plate.

"What?!" Mom yells. And we've gone from world peace to World War III. "Bella, are you -"

"I'm just not feeling well, Mom," Alice insists, interrupting Mom. "Bella's got nothing to do with it."

"I kind of do."

"Stop taking all the blame," Alice says.

Mom starts in again. "Alice, are you really -"

"But it's totally my fault," I say, talking over Mom.

"I was on a mission, Bella. A failed mission, but a mission anyway."

"Oh, I think you definitely got where you were going. And then some."

Angela looks between me and Alice and scowls.

"I don't know what's gotten into you girls this morning," Mom huffs.

"Maybe you should stay home, Pixie," Dad calmly suggests, using Alice's nickname like she's still four years old. Like she wasn't just drunk off her ass last night.

Alice stares into her lap. "No, I think I really need to hear what Father has to say today."

And then she takes a deep breath and tries for a bite of toast.

xXxXx

When I was little, our church seemed like it was big enough that it took thousands of people to fill the pews. It's not, though. St. Mary's can hold a few hundred people at best. It's only about half full this morning, with people mostly bunched up along the aisle.

I slide in next to Alice and hold her hand in a show of support. I know just how she feels. I can't remember a single Sunday senior year when I wasn't hungover for mass. But it's also because I'm excited. I'm about to see Father Edward up on stage, doing his thing.

I have never, ever, in my entire life been excited about mass.

God's honest truth.

Eventually organ music swells and the whole church vibrates. Back in the balcony, the choir begins to sing a hymn.

I used to annoy my mom to death with my singing when I was a kid, but she never yelled at me when I sang hymns. So I did. Over and over. Which is why I know this one - every single word of it. Still, I hum along instead of sing. My family would know I'm a total fraud.

The doors at the back of the church swing open, and I stand on tiptoe, hoping to catch a glimpse of Father. I have to laugh to myself because I'm acting like he's some rock star. But, really, I'd be just as stoked if Patti Smith or Carrie Brownstein were walking down the aisle. I have no idea whether this is some holy impulse, or just leftover nostalgia from when I was a kid, or if it's just me fucking up my relationship with a priest, of all things.

Probably me.

One by one, the people in the processional walk past our pew. Joey D'Amico from down the block is carrying Christ on the cross and another little kid's waving incense. Bishop Whitlock's behind them, holding the Gospel. And finally, I see Father Edward with his head bent in prayer, his hands clasped in front of him, wearing a long, emerald green robe.

By the time the hymn is over, Father's facing us from the altar. The color of his robe along with the light from the stained glass make his hazel eyes look like they're blazing with holy fire.

We begin the slow, rhythmic call and response. First Father, then the congregation. I'm surprised how good it feels to pray right along with everyone. I know the prayers like I know my parent's neighborhood. Like I know what happens on Christmas morning.

I can't pay attention to the first reading because I'm too busy watching Father Edward take his seat. Bishop Whitlock claps him on the knee and they whisper like kids in the back of a class. Like they're some kind of religious renegades. Troublemakers together.

_Christ_.

Alice nudges me with her elbow. She's not looking good. Her eyes are glassy, her lips pressed together in a thin line. She's wrapped an arm around her midsection.

"I think I -" she whispers in my ear, but then lurches from her seat, pushes past me, and runs up the aisle with a hand over her mouth.

The congregation all around us murmurs as the choir breaks into another hymn. I slip out of the pew and try to act calm as I head for the vestibule, getting there just in time to see the front doors swing shut. Outside, Alice is bent over the hedges, leaving no doubt why she had to leave.

People make extra room as they walk past on the sidewalk. Some grimace. Some laugh.

"Get a good look?" I ask a snickering boy as I kneel next to my sister, and hold her hair away from her face.

"I'm so sorry, Alice." I say. "I should have stopped you last night. Or at least tried to slow you down. I'm sorry for sucking. Lately it seems like I -"

"Oh my goodness," Alice chokes.

"I know, I just -"

"Stop it!" Alice stands up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I expect her to look like a wrung out dishrag, but instead, she looks pissed. "Not everything is about you, Bella."

"What?"

"_I_ drank too much. _I_ wanted to talk to you, but _I_ chickened out. _I_'m vomiting."

"Yeah, but I -"

"No! My hangover is not about you. Angela's wedding is not about you. Mom's nitpicking is not about you. You have this way of putting yourself in the middle of every single thing, which is probably great if you want to be some big rock star, but it makes it kind of shitty as your little sister."

"Alice, I -"

"I just wanted to talk to you last night. About me. Just me."

"I -" I shut my mouth and struggle to think of something to say that doesn't involve the word "I".

I can't.

I suck.

Jesus.

Alice's eyes are tearing. Her hair's a mess. She still looks green.

"_You_ look like shit," I try.

Alice smiles a little.

"And _you_ smell like puke."

Alice chuckles reluctantly and tries smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. I help with her hair.

"You want to go home?" I ask in all seriousness.

She shakes her head.

"Then you should definitely wash your mouth out."

After a trip to the bathroom, I clutch Alice's hand in mine and push open the heavy wooden sanctuary doors. The whole congregation is standing. Father's behind the pulpit.

".._.Indeed there are those who are last who will be first, and who are first who will be last_."

Father Edward looks up from the Gospel, straight up the aisle. Straight at me.

_It's not all about me. It's not all about me._

"This is the Gospel of the Lord," he says. Like he's talking to me. Like there's no one else in the church.

_It's not all about me._

The congregation chants back as Alice and I walk down the aisle. Father watches us as I stumble over people's feet on my way back to my seat. I hold up a finger as I help Alice over a purse and a toddler. Mom coughs. Angela shakes her head. I hear Emmett chuckle from across the aisle.

When we're finally settled, I smile up at Father Edward. His eyes lock with mine for a second. Or an hour. And one corner of his mouth draws up into the smallest hint of a smile.

I watch. I wait. My heart flutters.

And the moment passes like it was never there.

_It's not all about me._

"That passage from Luke was pretty grim, don't you think?" he asks us all. "There will come a time and a place for each and every one of us when it's too late. We may change our mind and decide to turn to God, but the train's already left the station. Salvation will be out of reach.

"In my mind, though, that's the long game. How do we get as many in the station as possible? Get them waiting for that train, so they don't miss it?

"Lately, I've been reminded of the parable of the prodigal son. We all know this story, yes?"

People all around me nod and murmur.

"Do you mind if I paraphrase a bit? It's the story of a kid who thought he knew more than his father. Typical teenager. Am I right?"

People laugh. Alice lowers her head. I grab her hand. This story isn't about her.

_It's not about me either_, I try telling myself again.

"He fought his parents tooth and nail about anything and everything."

From out of the corner of my eye, I notice Mom nodding.

"Didn't want to herd his goats. Hated his robes. Wanted new sandals like all the other kids. He was never happy, despite his parents' best efforts. Felt he was controlled and he resented it. So you all know what he did. He left."

Of course, I know this story. I probably heard it for the first time as a toddler, and dozens of times since. But I'm captivated. I notice I've inched up toward the edge of my seat.

"He_ demanded_ his share of his father's estate and took off. And you know what he did then, right? He partied. Maybe even experimented with pot a few times," Father Edward mock whispers.

Kids in the congregation grin. I hear Mom gasp. Dad shakes his head. I cover my mouth so my parents don't see me laughing.

"I'm sure he had a good time at first. I mean-" he holds his hand out and starts ticking off vices- "Money, wine, music, women. I bet they were the kind of girls his parents would never approve of."

More people laugh this time around, but Father Edward's not laughing.

He's looking at me.

Just me.

_It's not about me_, I tell myself again. At least, I hope it isn't. Because I am that girl.

Stupid church.

"But what happened when the money ran out and all those girls were gone? When the wine ran dry. And the music stopped?"

Father Edward's voice is quiet. "He couldn't go home because he'd had that terrible fight with his father, remember?"

And Alice was right, because I can't stop thinking Father Edward is preaching just to me. I'm sitting in the middle of a crowd, and I'm sure his eyes keep coming back to me. I'm sure this whole sermon is for me.

Which is probably the point. Father Edward wants us all to feel this way.

He's a good priest.

And according to Alice, I'm self-centered.

We're quite the pair.

"The boy thinks his family hates him. Right? They must, because he was being kind of… well, a jerk."

My dad laughs out loud as Father adds, "Of course, the boy's father might say it differently, but I wouldn't want to offend them." He nods to the statues of saints behind us.

The congregation laughs even more. Dad nudges Mom, who just shakes her head.

"And then one day the boy finds himself outside the gates of his childhood home, the very home he'd fought so hard to leave. The one where he'd told his father he didn't need him.

"He wants to leave and run away." Father glances around at the congregation, then tiptoes away from the pulpit like he's trying not to get caught. "Because he can't face his family."

Then Father comes back to the pulpit and looks straight at me. I know it's true this time because Alice sneaks a glance at me from my right, and Angela's downright staring at me from my left.

"And just when the prodigal son is about to go, the door opens. And there's his father."

Father Edward's eyes grow wide as he slowly looks up, like someone very tall is standing over him.

"'Surely he's going to refuse me,' the son thinks to himself. 'Surely he'll tell me I can't stay here.'"

"Surely," Father Edward says… _to me_? And I can't take it. My cheeks are burning. I'm downright warm. I close my eyes. I bow my head.

"I really think this is about me, Alice. I have a problem," I whisper in my sister's ear.

"Maybe I was wrong," she whispers back.

"What?"

"Maybe everything_ is_ about you."

Alice and I giggle, and Mom shushes us like we're kids.

I try to refocus my attention on the hot priest on stage. It's not all that difficult, really. I could stare at that man all day long.

"The son can't bear to hear his father reject him, so he turns to go. But then two huge hands grab him from behind and pull him into a hug that lasts an eternity. Holding him. Accepting him."

"Loving him," Father Edward says as he smiles across the sanctuary at me.

"_For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and now, he's found_."

Father Edward takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair.

"How do we get the people we love to the station so they don't miss the train to Life Everlasting? We could threaten them like we heard in today's Gospel, sure. But when you threaten the people you love, they tend to run away, just like the prodigal son."

He looks around at all of us out here like he's waiting for it to sink in. "I don't think that's the way to go."

"If we want our family on that train, then it's our job to welcome them home. We open our arms. We forgive. We love. And how do you make sure you're on the train? Stay humble before your family. Be brave and face them."

He takes a breath.

I take a breath.

He looks at me.

I look away.

"'But Father,' you might say, 'My family isn't like that. I can _never_ go home.'"

"If you're feeling that way, all you have to do is look around you. St. Mary's is your family. I'm your family. Ready to welcome you. So let's all practice a little forgiveness, let's all be humble and brave. Let's all wait in the station together."

Father Edward takes his seat as the rest of the congregation begins reciting the Nicene Creed. The words lull me into a place where I'm not sure what's real and what's imagined, what's present and what's past. Mass has never felt this personal. Mass has never made me feel like crying. Mass has never been spoken just for me.

I'm tempted to receive communion when everyone lines up, but I can't. I know I can't. I don't believe any of this. The only reason I'd be in the line shuffling down the aisle would be to get closer to Father Edward. To gaze up into his eyes as he places a wafer between my parted lips.

He's trying to help me because he's a priest. If he wants to get close to me, it's because he wants to save my soul from eternal damnation. Which is something I've told myself over and over I don't believe in.

So I slip out of my pew with the rest of my family, but I walk toward the vestibule, instead of the front of the church.

I pull my phone out of my pocket as I wait for my family outside.

There's a text from my manager:

**Hope your head's clearing and we'll see you back soon.**

There's a text from Jake:

**Saw Alice run out just now. Poor kid. Wait for me?**

Was Jake even in the church? I guess he was.

And there's a text from Ben.

**I can't stop thinking about you. About it. Us.**

Fuck.

* * *

**A/N: Dear God, this is what happens when a backslidden Southern Baptist and an atheist write Catholic mass. It might be the most fictional work of fiction in the history of fiction. For that, we repent. Kinda. ****And if you're saying, "Jesus Christ, I didn't think there'd be this much religion in this goddamned fic!" Don't worry - more blasphemy, less scripture in the weeks to come. Promise ;-)**

**Props to SueBee for doing God's work and cleaning up our messes, and to ChrisAnn for having the forbearance to put up with us both.**


	11. Chapter 10 Sanctuary

**Chapter 10. Sanctuary **

**Father Cullen**

It's been a long day.

Longer than most.

I'm exhausted.

People have been in and out of the office and I'm happy to help them. I am. But Jasper's also sharing an office with me. He's been mulling. And hovering. And praying very earnestly with me, asking God to guide me in my time of need.

And it seems to be doing more harm than good, considering how much it has me thinking about Bella and her absence after the homily today. It's been weighing on me.

Did I offend her? I probably overstepped with the tale of the prodigal son. I definitely stole too many glances in her direction.

"I won't be back late. Promise," Jasper says, as he gets ready to meet with some of the deacons for dinner.

I try not to feel too relieved that I'll have some privacy.

I try not to feel downright giddy about it, as a matter of fact.

After he's left the building I walk through the church, turning down lights and locking rooms. Back in the office, I'm grateful I still keep a stash of street clothes. I swap the clerical clothing I've been in most of the day for some jeans and an old t-shirt. Then I reach for the wine I also keep stashed.

With the first sip, I stretch out at my desk, put in my AirPods and find my most recent playlist.

As Hozier sings, I let the music wash the day away. I let my mind settle.

I tell myself there's a reason my thoughts have been straying. Maybe I haven't prayed enough, or hard enough. Maybe I haven't _honored _Him enough.

Maybe Jasper's right. Maybe I need to take myself out of temptation's way. And maybe the travel would do me some good.

A new song plays and I find myself wondering if Bella would like this one. What she's like up on stage in front of her fans. Is she hard core rock or more mellow?

Why did she need time off? And why does she need to figure out her entire life before going back?

_Fuck_. I close my eyes and try to seek His forgiveness, but the words won't come.

I take the AirPods out, frustrated, then bow my head.

"Hear me, dammit," I practically demand. Then I take a breath and remind myself what Ecclesiastes says.

_Be not quick in your spirit to become angry._

And I dutifully change my tune.

"Show me the way, Lord."

"The way to where?"

I look up and there's Bella, standing in the doorway and smiling mischievously. It's like she was dropped there by God himself, just to test me. Or torment me.

I glance upward.

_This is not answering my prayer._

I lean back in the chair and I smile back at her because, regardless of whether she's a test or a torment, I'm happy to see her.

"Is Alice feeling better?"

She shakes her head, smirking. "Always avoiding my questions."

She's not wrong. She's magnetic. And I can't seem to look away.

_Jesus help me_. Here I am, making this inappropriate, when she's likely here for guidance.

"I was asking God to show me the way to righteousness," I tell her. It's basically an honest answer.

She hums as she gives me a good once over. "I don't think you have to worry about righteousness. You were really good up there this morning. Extremely righteous, in my unprofessional opinion."

I know it's completely inappropriate to tell her I was sitting here thinking about her. About how it feels like she sees every stain on my soul when she looks at me like that. Or that I've been begging the Lord God our Saviour to save me from her.

"You missed communion," I say instead, coming out from behind the desk, leaving my piles of work behind.

"You noticed?" She seems genuinely surprised.

I take a seat on the edge of my desk. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"You're everyone's priest. You're not just there for me." And I'm not sure who she's trying to convince.

"True. Still, I noticed." I smile and tell myself I would have noticed if anyone else had been missing too, that she's no different from any of my other parishioners.

In other words, I lie.

"Does it get tiring?" she asks. "Always having to notice things like that. Always being a priest?"

"God gives me strength to do what needs to be done." _Please God, give me the strength I need now_. "But to answer your question..." I shrug. "I kind of enjoy it."

"So, it's what you do for fun?"

We both laugh, breaking some of the tension in the room.

"I guess you could say that."

"You and your friends get together and just… priest out?"

"Consider yourself lucky you didn't show up after two or three of these." I pick my drink up and finish it off.

Bella begins to glance around the room like she's searching for evidence of these so-called friends. Or she's probably picturing me, _priesting out _here, all alone. Then she looks over at me, thinking, with her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment.

I catch myself staring at her mouth and look away.

She peeks over at the wall, at old photos of other priests and deacons gathered for church events over the years. "Can you even have friends? I mean, friends who aren't other priests. Or friends you don't have to take care of in a priestly way?"

She says _priestly_ like it's a sin. And I'm going to Hell.

I might be going to Hell.

I clear my throat. "To the best of my knowledge, yeah. Why?"

"So you can just, I don't know, hang out if you want to?" At first she seems to be teasing, but something in her expression changes. She's not teasing me. She's sincere.

I swallow. "Are you asking me to hang out with you, Bella?"

She looks like my question caught her off guard. "Maybe? Yes? I wasn't... I mean, with that Captain America tee instead of the collar, you almost look like a normal person."

I cross my arms, suddenly aware that without the clerical clothing or priestly robes I'm just the geeky guy who's seen one too many Marvel movies.

"Like a friend, I mean," she says quickly. "Like a normal friend who hangs out with other friends."

Bella shakes her head and tries to hide the way she's smiling with her hand. "_Christ_," she mutters under her breath. She looks out into the hallway. At her shoes. Then she finally looks me in the eye.

She's blushing. And it suits her.

I nod and grin, attempting to mask how self conscious I feel. "I could probably take the rest of the night off to be a normal friend."

I pour myself another drink and realize I'm being rude. I hold the glass up. "A friend would probably offer you some wine."

The lift in her brow says it all. She definitely wants a drink. She's also unsure if she should accept.

"This is usually where I'd make an excuse to leave, just to be on the safe side." She glances around the office again.

"Bella, if you don't -"

"I guess a priest's office is pretty safe, all things considered? Don't have to worry about my new friend getting handsy. Right?"

Bella seems horrified. Or nervous. Or nervously horrified.

Not that she should worry. She shouldn't.

She definitely shouldn't worry about her normal priest friend getting handsy.

Fuck.

_Jesus Christ. Stop me from thinking about getting handsy._

"You sure I'm not interrupting anything?" she asks. She walks along the wall and drags a finger over the spines of books like she's checking out my taste in religious philosophy.

"Are you kidding? I could use a break from answering emails."

"Then I guess I'll have what you're having," she says, and I head for the closet to grab another glass. I steal a quiet moment alone to gather my wits. Then I breathe, and pray.

_I can do all things through Him who strengthens me._

Which means I can do this. I can be Bella's friend. Her very non-handsy, normal friend.

"So…" Bella asks as I duck out of the closet. "Do your friends all call you Father? Could I just call you Edward, maybe? Ed? Or Eddie?"

"First of all..." I pour a glass and hand it to her. "Never, _ever _call me Eddie."

She smirks. "Only if we're fighting. Got it."

"Secondly," I clink her glass with mine. "I'd be honored for you to call me Edward." I lower my voice. "Maybe not in front of the congregation." Then I drink half of my wine down.

"Okay… _Edward_."

My breath catches and my stomach tightens. When I agreed to be friends on a first name basis, maybe it was naive, but I didn't expect it to feel so intimate. At the same time, I want to hear her say it again. My name. Her lips. I imagine myself asking her just that - to call me Edward one more time.

I give the door a look. And ignore the urge to close it.

"Is this really okay? I don't want to get you in trouble." Bella seems sincerely worried. So am I.

"Fellowship is a necessity for all God's children," I assure her.

"You're still talking like a priest, you know."

"Sorry, habit," I tell her, embarrassed a bit.

"It's cool. I've got some strange friends. You'd probably fit right in with the rest of us oddballs."

I try to picture it - hanging out with Bella's musician friends with a collar around my neck and a drink in my hand like it was any other day of the week.

In another life, maybe.

I finish off my glass and fill it again and I try to put some space between us. Anything to try to focus on why God might have _actually _brought her here, and how I might be able to help.

"What about you?" she asks, interrupting the thought, stepping a little closer. My office is small. There's not much room.

"Me?"

"I'm guessing your friends probably wouldn't approve." She takes another sip and another step. The air between us is electric.

"Jasper likes you. I mean Bishop Whitlock. He likes your whole family, in fact."

Bella grins. "I had a feeling you two were more than co-workers."

"He knows me better than anyone. Better than myself."

"Wow. The stories he could tell." With another step, I can see the flecks of brown in Bella's eyes. I can see the tiny freckles over the bridge of her nose.

"Not very fitting for a priest, I'm afraid." My voice is quiet. I should back away, but I can't. Not unless I crawl over the desk.

"But as one of my friends…Promise me you'll tell me a story one day? A very un-priestly one?"

My cheeks burn when she says it. I hate to think how her opinion of me would change if I told her some of the stunts I used to pull. But oddly enough, I find myself wanting to tell her all of it. "Promise."

"Also, I have so many questions." Her eyes glitter with anticipation. "I know this might surprise you, but I've never had a priest as a friend."

I take another drink. "Ask me anything."

Bella laughs... And laughs. It's contagious even though I have no idea what's so funny. Suddenly she's leaning a hand on my chest for support. My heart beats a little faster, and then I don't really care why we're laughing. After a moment, she wipes tears from her eyes. When she looks up at me, the laughter dies in her throat, and she falls into one of the leather chairs in front of my desk.

I sit down in the chair next to her and try to calm down. To act like a normal person. A regular friend.

"I can't ask you anything… yet," she says, trying not to grin. "We only just became friends like two minutes ago."

I try not to consider what that _anything _is referring to.

"Let's start simple, maybe." She takes a sip of her wine. "Have you always wanted to be a priest? I legit can't even imagine something like that."

"Wanted is a strong word," I tell her. "But it was a pretty clear path since about the end of high school. When I thought about other options, nothing else made as much sense."

"I get that. Sometimes you just know."

"Did you always know you wanted to be a rock star?"

She laughs again. "I'm no rock star."

"I didn't say you were." I lean in a little. "I asked if you wanted to be one."

Bella's cheeks pink and she ducks her head like she's embarrassed. "Fair enough. And, um, no, but a girl's gotta get paid, right? I've been writing songs for as long as I can remember. Before I could write, I just sang them all day long. Drove Mom nuts."

I can very easily picture this. And it makes me smile. Again. "If I keep my promise to tell you a story, will you sing for me someday?"

"You know my songs are online? Like, priests have WiFi, right?"

"I'll have to remember that," I tell her. And I know I'm still smiling. Enough that my cheeks practically ache. That's just how it is when she's around.

"Maybe if your un-priestly story's really juicy it'll earn you a live performance... No promises."

She laughs again.

And I laugh with her for a moment, before turning more serious. Because I'd give her anything she asks. As her priest. And as her friend.

"Juicy it is, then," I tell her with a wink.

Somehow it's like all the air is sucked from the room as Bella and I watch one another. Bella shakes her head, like she's trying to break the spell I didn't know I'd cast, but I'm caught. I can't look away.

"I can't tell if you're oblivious or if you're flirting. But you're killing me here," she says very quietly.

I'm killing her. And she's bringing my entire body to life.

"So," I attempt to redirect the conversation. Because we're just friends. "Do you want to tell me why you're here?"

"Truth?" she asks.

"I may be off duty but I'm still a priest. So yes. Truth."

Bella fiddles with her wine glass then steals a glance in my direction. "I felt guilty for getting Alice drunk, so I offered to drop off the stuff she set aside for the food pantry. And then I saw your light. And I'm nosy."

Guilt… I may be here as her friend, but as a Catholic priest I deal with this all the time. I decide to let my work life bleed into my personal life.

"Let me ask you a question."

She arches an eyebrow. "As your friend, I'm under no obligation to answer."

Bella always does this. She always gives herself a way out, like she's protecting herself. I wonder what's made her build up these walls. And I want her to know she doesn't need them when she's around me.

"Why do you think you're responsible for Alice's actions?"

"Easy. When was the last time you saw Alice drunk?"

Two can play the answering a question with a question game. "When was the last time you saw Alice do anything she didn't want to do?" I counter. "And as your priest, I should tell you there are no wrong answers, but as your friend who's had a couple glasses of wine… the answer is never."

Bella narrows her eyes. "Maybe. But still -"

"You're going to take the blame for it anyway. Aren't you?"

Bella shrugs and gulps her wine. "Ask almost anyone in my family, Father… I mean Edward. I promise you, they'll be happy to take my side on this."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Bella, but your family? Your parents, your sisters? They fuck up too. We all fuck up."

"Fuck?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"It's just a word," I tell her, echoing my conversation with Jasper. "But I think you're missing the point."

She hides behind her wine glass, but I can see the color rise on her cheeks. "If you want me to pay attention, maybe don't throw around the word…" Bella bites her lip and peeks at me out of the corner of her eye. "..._fuck_," she whispers.

And _Christ_. I need to stop staring at her lips.

I clear my throat. "Fair enough." For the first time, I have an idea why this word might make people uncomfortable. "Maybe we'll keep it off the table for the two of us. As friends."

"Yeah, you _do not_ want to go there with me." Then she seems to remember where she is and who she's with. "Of course, I mean. Your day job and all. Not gonna happen."

"Right," I agree with her because… fuck. "Where were we?"

"Well, I can tell you what we weren't doing."

Part of me thinks she's doing this purely as a defense mechanism. Part of me thinks it's just a natural reflex. And part of me thinks she's doing it on purpose. That she likes playing like this, with me.

I should probably change the subject. Again.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Jesus, two questions in one night?"

I raise my eyebrows. She's mocking me again.

"Shit! _Jesus_. Sorry."

"I think we might have the makings of a drinking game, here. Every time you say you're sorry-"

"You need to stop acting so normal," she says, giving my knee a playful shove. "I forget about you and Jesus, for Christ's sake. I'm going to need more wine if you want another answer."

I think we both need more wine.

"Why didn't you stay for communion today?" I ask as I refill her glass then mine.

Bella shrugs. "I thought about it," she says, and the pink from her cheeks seems to spread over the bridge of her nose. She studies the glass of wine in her hands before looking me in the eye. "I don't believe in it anymore."

"But you came to mass."

"Truth?" she asks me again.

"Still a priest, so…" I nod.

"I came for you. I've never wanted to listen to any other priest ever."

My voice catches in the back of my throat and my mind goes blank for a split second. It's not what I expected to hear her say.

I don't know what I expected.

It's good though, I tell myself. It's what every priest wants to hear, right?

And I do. But it's more than that.

"I'm glad you came," I tell her. "I'm glad you're here, Bella."

It's the best I can give her because I can't exactly say why I'm glad. I can't tell her that being around her makes me the happiest I've been in years or that if it was up to me, I'd find excuses to be around her every hour of every day.

"I'm glad I'm here too. Thanks," she says.

As we sit there, staring into each other's eyes like this, I remind myself that she's here because she thinks I'm a good priest. She's here because she needs the guidance of a man of God, not a man who would like nothing more than to lean forward, just a bit, and take her face in his hands and kiss her softly on the lips.

Bella clears her throat and stands. "I... guess I should get going. Mom hates it when we're late for Sunday dinner. She'd never let me hear the end of it."

I stand up too. "You could tell her it was my fault."

She shakes her head as she gazes up at me. "No, I couldn't. Mom thinks you're perfect."

"Bella-"

"But I'd tell her no one's perfect. And remind her she fucks up too sometimes. And then I'd blame it on a friend. See? I'm learning, Edward."

"You might want to consider using a different word though."

"Which word?" she asks with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Perfect?"

I chuckle to myself. "Yes. Perfect."

For a moment I'm not sure what to do here. Do I shake her hand? Clap her on the shoulder like I would with Jasper?

Before I can decide, Bella's doing it for me. She wraps her arms around me, pulls me close and rests her cheek against my shoulder. I feel tense and clumsy at first, but then my hands find their way around her too.

It's not like I've never hugged a parishioner before, but it never feels like this. This feels easy… and right… and wrong, all at the same time.

Complete.

I relax into her, breathing her in. Her hair tickles my face. Her breasts press against my chest. And I don't want to let her go.

"Thanks for letting me priest out with you," she whispers in my ear. I hold her a little tighter before reminding myself, I need to let her go.

I force myself to take a tentative step back. Hell, I can't even look her in the eye just yet.

"Maybe we could do this again sometime?" she asks.

"Anytime." I nod. "Maybe I'll see you back in my dark, dank box?"

"I wouldn't hold your breath," she teases. Then leaves.

Standing there, watching her go, I exhale long and slow, wondering what in the Hell just happened. Something about Bella puts me completely on edge, but also… it invigorates me. And I'm not quite sure what to do with any of it.

I walk back to my desk, rubbing the back of my neck. I wonder if I said the right things. Or if I helped her at all.

And as I'm wondering, I take a seat. I turn the computer monitor toward me, and I open up YouTube. I type Bella Swan into the search bar and wait to hear one of her songs.

* * *

**A/N: "Blasphemy it is, then," said the blasphemers. **

**Twi Fic Fandom Awards are up and running y'all. Have you voted yet? **

**THANKS to Sue for not only giving us her time in making sure our grammar is prettified, but for giving us some EXTREMELY excellent (but also very messed up) plot ideas. **


	12. Chapter 11 Hymn

**Chapter 11. Hymn **

**Bella**

I wake up with a song on my lips for the first time in weeks.

The house is quiet. Everyone's at work, Alice is at school, and I have the run of the place. It's like those magical days when I was little and managed to convince Mom I was sick. Then I'd do every bad thing I could think of before the rest of the family came back home.

Words keep popping into my head, so I find a scrap of paper and a pen and start writing. It's a miracle. Kind of. As close to a miracle as I'm going to get.

Nothing in my life's fixed. I know that.

I still can't stomach thinking about Mike and Jessica. I can't imagine going back on tour with him. Ben's still texting and I'm still avoiding. But I hum as I make my way downstairs and make some coffee and toast.

I jot down more words. A couple of chords. I add a dash of whiskey for creative inspiration. I run upstairs with it all and spread out on my twin bed. Then I break out my baby.

My guitar.

I call her A2.

I bought her after my first real payday. She's so pretty - a deep, dark cherry bronze. She's made of rosewood, so she sings at the upper registers and booms when she plays something low.

This morning she hums along with me, and it's sweet and easy... And it's blasphemous and perverse. Somehow a hymn's gotten mixed up with vices and sin. This is the best and the worst thing I could ever imagine writing, all rolled into one. It's me. And it's not perfect yet, but it will be.

I pull out my laptop and fire up GarageBand, find a badass bassline, add in some drums, then lay down A2's sweet little voice over it all. It makes me smile like I was smiling last night.

Shit.

I read through the lyrics again.

Fucking shit.

I just wrote how I feel when I'm with Father Edward.

Or just Edward, my new celibate friend.

_Jesus Christ_, he makes me feel fine, that's for damn sure. I read through again, getting lost in the really good parts, kind of tingling all over. I'm every inch the sinner I know I am, even though last night Edward looked at me like I'm a saint. I can't stop smiling even though I know this is very, very wrong.

I try to ignore thoughts about how freakin' hot Edward looked in his comic book tee. The one that fit so well it kind of made me think about Captain America - so well-meaning, hot, and innocent all at once. Don't even get me started about America's ass. Yeah, I try to ignore it. It's not easy.

Stupid, hot, celibate friend.

I replay the music I've laid down. It needs some more finessing, and I need a smoke and some more whiskey, so I raid the liquor cabinet and then find Dad's secret cigarette stash in the garage.

Outside, the birds are chirping and the sun's shining, and I can smell a hint of low tide on the breeze along with car exhaust. I'm a kid playing hooky, tapping out a rhythm with my toes. Jotting down the words as they come. Pocketing my butts to try to stay on Mom's good side.

Another drink and I'm in heaven… writing about sins and hymns. It's the most Catholic thing I've ever done. And it feels right I'm doing it back home, back where it all began: my Catholicism, hymn singing, and the sinning of course.

Upstairs, I hit up Photoshop. I pull something together and it's quick and dirty, like this song's turning out to be. I don't mind, though. My social media's been dead for weeks and this is the best thing I've written in so many months.

And in three, two, one… I upload just a hint of my new track to Soundcloud. Then I hint about it on Insta. And I smile as people gush. And swoon. And forward. And like.

"Thanks, Baby," I say to A2, brushing my fingers over her strings. She hums in reply.

Then I write back to friends. And fans. I have fans! I've been so caught up in my own head I almost forgot.

Emily slides into my DM's. I haven't talked to her in ages.

**Yo gurl, where u at?**

**NYC** \- I reply.

**Shit, me 2! Come see me Bowery tomorrow?**

My heart races. Emily knows about Mike. Everyone does.

**Maybe. Family, you know?**

**PLEEEEEZ?**

I stare at my phone pinging with like after like. Comment after comment. The last time Emily and I got together was a blast. I shouldn't let what happened with Mike change that. I take a deep breath. It's just Emily. It's no big deal.

**Bella? U there?**

**K** \- I type. My finger hovers, then I force myself to hit send.

**Yeah?**

**Yup**

**YES!**

I giggle to the sound of the pings as my Insta post goes a little viral. And then I record the sound and loop it and jot down something a little more silly. Something about failing and flatlining in front of my fans. Because it's just what you've got to do sometimes. And I'm gonna need more coffee and more whiskey and some leftovers.

I'm in the kitchen with a bottle of liquor in my hand and a cigarette hanging from my lips when Mom walks through the front door.

"Isabella Swan!"

And I drop a Tupperware of spaghetti onto the floor.

"Fuck," I groan. There's marinara everywhere. The floor. The cabinets. My sweats.

"For the love of all that's holy," Mom huffs as she pulls off her jacket and goes for a mop and some dishrags.

"I got this," I mumble as I back away from my mess. Ash from my cigarette falls onto the tomato sauced floor.

"I think you've done enough. You know, some of us work for a living. To come home to this..."

"I was working all day."

Mom narrows her eyes.

If looks could kill... well, I'd have died way back in high school. But this look - it's like she'd kill me all over again and then some, the way she's glaring.

"Playing on your computer in your pajamas while you're drunk is not work. Any daughter of mine should know that."

"This _is_ how I work. And I'm not drunk."

Technically I'm just buzzed.

"Don't lie to me, Bella. My heart can't take it."

"What do you want me to do, Mom? Go get a nursing degree like Angela? Or start popping out babies like Rose?"

"Please just get out of my hair. I have a kitchen to clean. Dinner to make. Mrs. Cheney's coming over to work on wedding favors. Rose isn't feeling well, so Emmett's going to drop off the kids on his way to the station."

"I'll help."

"Oh, that would be a first," she says like Sunday morning breakfast never happened.

"Jesus!" I huff. I shove the liquor back into the cabinet. I toss my butt in the sink.

"Bella!" she warns, "I just came from confession. Don't make me say something that's going to send me right back."

"Confession?" I ask.

A dark, dank box never sounded so good.

xXxXx

"Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been three days since my last confession."

And there's nothing. Silence.

"Hello? I've sinned and I'm here, reporting for duty."

"Sorry, I was informed I shouldn't hold my breath for this. The shock and awe is still wearing off."

I laugh. With just the sound of his voice, I feel ten pounds lighter. "Hey there, Father. You sound suspiciously like my friend Edward."

"I hate to tell you, but I don't keep any wine stashed in the confessional."

"I'm here for absolution. Not for a drink."

I hear him laugh under his breath, and I picture the way he always tries to hide his smile from me when he does. My stomach flip flops nervously. I'm hungry… for the spaghetti I dropped onto the floor and for a peek at the good Father. I'm a mess.

"What could you possibly have done within the past… fifteen hours that needs absolving? Did you get another family member drunk? Bella, tell me you didn't get your grandmother drunk."

"I thought I'd stick to getting myself wasted today. Less guilt involved, you know? And then I wrote this song. It's the first thing I've written in weeks, by the way, but I don't know if God's cheering me on about it."

"Why wouldn't he be cheering you on?"

There's no way I can bring myself to tell Edward about the lyrics. Would he raise his voice and ban me from the church? Or would he ignore the implications and give me a list of prayers, like my feelings for him were nothing more than another sin by another sinner?

No… I have a feeling he'd let me down easy. Which, somehow, is even worse.

I cough. "If it's cool, I'd rather not say."

"That bad, huh?" he asks.

I wonder if he could imagine words like those. I try ticking through Black Eyed Peas tracks. I don't think Fergie ever covered this kind of material.

I think about pulling out my phone and pressing play. Suddenly the confessional feels like it's closing in on me. I lean against the wall for support.

"It's even worse than you could imagine, probably. But it's so good, you know? It's just like fuuuuuck."

"Fuck?" he asks in a whisper I almost didn't hear, like it's just between me and him. And not for God's ears. And unf… the way he says it, like I've coaxed the word out of him against his will... He should not be saying that, not like that, definitely not here. I press my thighs together and take a deep breath.

"Jesus, sorry. Off the table. I forgot our ground rules."

"And, you know, Church."

"Listen, if He's real, that word's the least of his worries when it comes to me. You, on the other hand... I don't want to mess up your chances with the Big Guy. So I'll try to be good."

I sigh. "And you should probably say a couple Our Father's or something. Just in case," I add. Trying with all my might to be a responsible Catholic.

"Forgive me Father," I hear him whisper under his breath.

I sigh, relieved his soul will live to see another day.

_Thank God._

Oh, hey, when in Rome and all. I glance at the roof of the confessional. _Thanks, God_.

"So, do you want to tell me anything about why you're here? Or should we start an official game of twenty questions?" Edward asks, back to his version of business as usual.

"Fine. There's the song I mentioned before. It's pure blasphemy, Father, but it might be one of my favorite things I've ever written."

I leave out the part about how it's, you know, _about_ him.

"And I made a mess of Mom's kitchen. And I stole her liquor and my dad's cigarettes."

"Charlie smokes?"

"And I outed my dad as a secret smoker to his priest. See? I commit a new sin by the minute."

Edward's laughter is less guarded this time. I don't even mind he's amused by all the ways I manage to fuck up in one afternoon. Hanging out and laughing with him feels right, somehow. And I wish the wall between us would just fade away.

"I have a feeling, as entertaining as that list is, it's still not the whole reason you're here."

I actually shiver. Because… "You're right," I admit, pulling a little slip of paper from my pocket. "How are you so good at this?"

"Call it my superpower."

"Ha! Dude, what are you wearing today?"

"What?"

_Christ._ What did I just ask a priest during confession?

"I mean under the collar and stuff," I try to explain.

"Today?" he asks. "Iron Man. Don't tell Bishop Whitlock, he's a big DC Comics fan."

"How are you guys even still friends?"

"God works in mysterious ways."

His silhouette makes me smile and I have to hold myself back from reaching out to touch his shadow. I imagine his messy hair and his bright eyes - how they crinkle at the edges when he makes a dorky joke. Those lips, so close to mine right now, but so, so far away. I think about how he clutched a cigarette between them a few nights ago… and I think about the lyrics to that new piece of mine. I consider adding a few lines about his mouth. And the things I'd like to teach that mouth to do. To me.

"So, um, Ed - I mean, Father? I was thinking," I say. My voice is so low he still has to lean closer to hear. I tell myself this isn't intentional.

"I'm all ears."

And lips. And eyes. And surprisingly broad chest. _Christ, why did you make this priest of mine so hot?_

"Bella?" he asks.

I take a deep breath and go for it.

"Right. My friend's playing at Bowery Ballroom tomorrow night. You busy? I thought you might like her. She's a little more Fergie than I am."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Nope. Not a chance in he….eaven." _Caught myself there_. "Want to come? Tomorrow. Nine-ish?"

I hold my breath as I roll the piece of paper up really tight, eying the tiny holes in the grate.

"Bella?"

"Yep?"

"Did you come to confession today for absolution? Or to ask me out?"

God, he's good at this. I've been avoiding that same question since I left my house.

"We're friends. Friends hang out. It'll be like a public priest-out sesh," I say to try to convince him. And myself while I'm at it.

Edward's quiet. My heart's pounding in my ears. The sound of my foot tapping against the floor seems to echo through the whole sanctuary. I'm surprised at how desperate I feel.

"I came for both, I guess," I try to explain to fill the awkward silence. "Two birds, one confessional. I mean, it's not like I have your number. How else was I going to ask?"

"You could have called my office, you could have stopped _by _the office, or the rectory, prayer group later tonight, the food pantry tomorrow morning-"

"You're a real know it all sometimes. Should I add asking a priest to hang out to my list of sins?"

"No, you cannot. I refuse to be a part of your self-deprecation."

"Oh my God, then come out with me. Pleeeeaaase!" I beg, sliding to my knees and clasping my hands together.

"Bella, I - "

"Fine. Just absolve me of my sins and I'll leave," I tell him before he can finish turning me down.

I bow my head, crushed but not entirely repentant. Father hesitates before he starts in on the prayer for absolution. I close my eyes and let his voice wash over me. He prays in an easy rhythm and hearing those words from his lips manages to make me feel better than I did when I walked in minutes ago.

"... I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen," he says, putting a bow on our weird little interaction. "Um, say three Hail Mary's, and stop stealing your father's cigarettes."

"I was going to replace them."

"I have no doubt."

Before I stand and leave, I decide to try my own version of a Hail Mary. I tell myself we're friends. I tell myself he obviously wants to hang out, so I take a deep breath and push the rolled up paper through the grating.

"Bella?"

"Yes, Father?"

"What's this?"

"My number."

"I see that. But -"

"But what, Father?"

"Why?"

I sigh. _Why, indeed. _"I could try to track you all over the parish, but priests have cell phones, right?"

"Most do."

"I'll say those Hail Mary's. I'll buy my dad a new pack of smokes. You let me know if you change your mind about tomorrow night. It would be fun."

I wait. I cough.

"Father?"

Edward doesn't have anything more to say. Which makes sense. I have my assignment. Three Hail Mary's and a pack of cigarettes. Yeah, he's still a weird priest.

As I leave the confessional, I can't help but look over my shoulder. I want to see him in his ridiculous Iron Man t-shirt. I want to ask if he wants to grab a drink at Billy's. I want him to come out with me tomorrow night.

More than all of that, I just want to hug him again. I like the way his body fits against mine.

I'm an idiot. He's got a job to do and it's kind of all-consuming. Meanwhile, I'm post fall from grace Lucifer.

"Ahem." Mrs. Aienelli clears her throat. I'm not the only sinner in town, so I clear out and wander the streets a little before I end up at Billy's Place.

Billy's all smiles as I slide onto a barstool.

"My boy's off today," he says as he goes for my usual.

"That's cool. I'm just here for a drink before heading home."

"You want his number?" he asks.

"I've got it," I say, toying with my cell.

I'm so stupid. I should have asked Jake to the show. Any other reasonable person would have asked the guy she should be dating. Not a priest.

The scotch feels good going down. It takes the edge off each of my indiscretions. And because I promised Edward, I bow my head and tick off those Hail Mary's under my breath. When I'm done, I hear my phone buzz and open my eyes.

It's a text. And it's not from my manager, or Jake, or even Ben. It's an unknown number.

**It's Edward.**

My heart speeds up. My fingers shake a little as I watch the bubbles appear. Then two more words pop up on my screen.

**I'm in. **

And I smile.

* * *

**A/N: Dear God, please forgive us because this isn't getting any better. Or it's only getting much better from here. Depends on your point of view, really. **

**Also God, thanks for bringing Jo & I together. She had the idea. I had the sense to see it was a good one. Or a very bad one. Something I can live with. Let's put it like that.**

**We also thank you for SueBee and her beta skills. And for her plot ideas. And for her saying, "I can't believe you went there." Because it only makes us go farther. Lord help us all.**

**Amen. **

**PS - God truly loves those who review. Double Amen. **


	13. Chapter 12 Thirst

**Chapter 12. Thirst**

**Father Cullen**

I make my way down the stairs of the rectory. I'm quiet. I'm careful. And completely in the dark because the last thing I want to do is attract attention to myself. I don't know why I care. I'm an adult. I have every right to go out if I want, with any friend I choose.

At the bottom of the stairs, I check my cell and sigh with relief that I still have plenty of time. I pull my jacket off of its hook and reach for the door.

"Where ya going?"

I jump and spin and try to catch my breath.

"Fuck. Jasper."

He laughs as he flicks the hallway light on. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"This isn't St. Vincent's."

He laughs some more. "I know. I know."

"I'm a grown ass man," I tell him.

Jasper looks me over. "That's debatable. Where ya headin'?"

"Visitation."

Shit.

It's the first thing that pops out of my mouth, and now it's too late to take it back.

I don't know what my problem is. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm meeting a friend.

_Lord. Forgive me._

He checks his watch. "At this hour?"

_I promise I won't do it again. Right after tonight. _"Yep,." I tell him. I'm committed now. There's no turning back. "Desperate family. Very much in need of… prayer. With their priest. Right away. "

Someone needs prayer. Probably me, considering the family I just told him I'm going to see is non-existent.

"Oh." He reaches for his own jacket. "Well, then let me come with you, I can-"

"You can't!" _Mother of…._

"What? Why not?"

He narrows his eyes. He knows. He always fucking knows.

Um….

"They're very private people," I tell him. "They only called me because they know me. If a stranger came along, they might clam up. You should take the night off… get some rest."

I'm going to Hell for this.

_Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Savior, forgive my sins, as You forgave Peter's denial and those who crucified You. _

"Well, I mean, if you're sure…"

I grin. "Absolutely. I've got this." _Count not my transgressions, Father, but, rather, my tears of repentance. _

Jasper seems suspicious, but he lets it go. I tell him I'll be home late. I tell him not to wait up.

I hope he doesn't.

On my way to the subway, I feel awful about the lie, but I'm not ready to share my plans for tonight. Not with Jasper. Not yet.

I haven't been this nervous since I gave my first sermon. Quite frankly, I feel like an idiot having spent the last hour of my life deciding whether I should wear a Winter Soldier or Endgame Captain America t-shirt.

But as I walk, the cold air clears my head, and I talk myself down from overthinking this too much.

It might look inappropriate, but it's not.

We're just hanging out.

Two friends.

In Manhattan.

Late at night.

"What the hell am I doing?"

And then I see Bella waiting for me outside the station. And fuck... She's beautiful.

Her hair's half up and half down, her eyes look so big, and her lips shimmer deep red. A loose sweater hangs off one shoulder and her legs look incredibly long in her skinny jeans.

Total bad ass rock star standing there waiting for me.

She sees me and her eyes light up as she smiles.

I second guess my wardrobe. I should have put something nicer on, considering who we're going to see. Her 'friend' Emily is in contention for a Grammy.

I'm so out of my league. Or I would be if this was a date. But this is not a date.

"So, you're friends with _Emily Young_?" I ask her when we're close enough to talk. "I thought you said you weren't a rock star?"

I know how much of a rock star she is. Priests do have Wi-Fi. I might have spent a little too much time the other night, watching this one video of her on stage from a few years back. Just her and her guitar in the spotlight. She was right. She's not Fergie. She's not Mariah either. She's Bella Swan and she's amazing.

"You're not gonna geek out on me backstage, are you?" she asks, flicking the butt of her cigarette and grinding it out under the toe of her boot.

"Backstage?"

"Shit, you are. Aren't you, Father?" She pauses and narrows her eyes. "Or Edward?" she asks. "Because tonight we're friends, right?"

Fuck.

My entire body freezes up when she says my name, and I don't know how to respond.

"Or I can call you Father if this is weird. It's probably weird."

_Please Lord, let her call me Edward. All night. _

"It might be weird for a priest." I try to keep it together. "Edward on the other hand… he's good with it." Then I shrug like it's really no big deal.

"Edward it is."

_Praise God. _

I stop my hands from making the sign of the cross.

I'm Edward tonight.

Bella's friend.

She smiles. "Big Emily Young fan, huh? That's cool. I'll make sure she knows when I introduce you."

"Please don't."

"Oh my God. Do you have a crush?" She gives my arm a playful shove.

Am I _really _that obvious?

Bella seems to notice how uncomfortable I am and takes a step away. "Shit, sorry about the Lord. His name. In vain. Fuck, I need to stop talking." She nods her head toward the entrance to the station. "Wanna go? It'll suck if we miss the train."

I let her walk through the turnstile first, because that's what any good friend would do.

"Couldn't find someone more interesting to spend the evening with?" I ask her as we wait with the rest of the crowd on the platform because, come on, who wants to hang out with their priest?

"No one I'd rather chill with, Father… I mean, Edward." She ducks her head and pushes some hair behind an ear. Then she peeks up at me.

And I realize I'm staring. _Dear God_...

She shakes her head. "Fine, fine… You always manage to get the truth out of me. You handle your liquor better than Alice. And don't give me shit like the rest of my family."

"What about Jake?" I ask.

Bella narrows her eyes. "Good question, actually. You're letting your super power show in public, you know."

I wait for the rest of her explanation, but she's suddenly very interested in an ad for toothpaste.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really." She moves on to an ad for _Twilight, the Musical._

I don't push. She clearly doesn't want to talk to me about Jake, and it's none of my business. Besides, she's running out of ads to read.

The train pulls up and Bella wastes no time stepping in as the doors open. We find two seats near a tired woman in scrubs and a group of girls dressed for a night on the town. It's quiet between us.

More people board as we make our way across Brooklyn. Packs of young people head to clubs. Homeless people walk through the car every now and then, asking for change. A blind man sets up camp near us and begins playing a violin. Bella relaxes as she watches him, her back falling against the hard plastic seat, her fingers tapping along with the melody. She fishes a few bills from her purse and drops them in his case.

"I love this sonata," she says with a sigh.

"Beethoven fan, huh?"

An eyebrow lifts. Her lips part. "_You_ know Beethoven?" she asks.

I shrug because I don't want to bring up my parents. Not opening up that can of worms tonight.

"Wait, you were _surprised_ I know Beethoven?" she asks.

"More like impressed."

"I _am _a musician, Edward."

And I can't help but smile. "I know. I found you on YouTube."

"I knew you had Wi-Fi! What did you think?"

What do I think? I think I'm lucky to be sitting next to her.

"Definitely better than Fergie… _in my unprofessional opinion_" I say, repeating her words from the other night in my office. The ones I've replayed in my head too many times to count.

"Hmm," she says, peering at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Of course, what do I know? I'm just an off-duty priest with a passion for music."

She goes quiet and I find myself glancing around at the other people in the car.

There's a man and a woman a few seats down wrapped up in one another, leaving little to the imagination. It's not the kind of thing people tend to do in front of a priest, and it catches me off guard. They take a break and I look away, but I can feel their eyes on me. I'm uneasy wondering what they must think of a priest riding a train at night with a beautiful girl.

Then I remember, I'm not wearing my collar. And I have a feeling I know what they're thinking. They're thinking this is a date. That Bella and I do that kind of thing too, or that I'm hoping we will be soon.

"Shit," I mumble under my breath.

"What?" Bella asks.

I run a hand through my hair, trying to think of something to say that won't sound like I'm trying too hard to think of something to say.

I force myself to look her square in the eye. She smiles back and fiddles with silver bands on her ring finger enough that I want to reach out and take her hand in mine.

I hear the guy across the aisle laugh. I can't help but think he's laughing at me. Like he sees right through me. Like we both know he's right.

"I don't know," I tell her. "Sometimes I'm not sure where to begin when it comes to you." And wow. It's the first completely honest thing I've said since I met up with her tonight. It's liberating.

"I know the feeling," Bella says as she looks between me and the couple across the way making out again. "Still cool if I ask you anything?"

"Of course."

And she flashes me a devilish grin. "Would you tell me about celibacy?"

We both laugh, but then I realize she's waiting for an actual answer. And I don't know where to begin.

"Sorry," she says, shaking her head. "Maybe it's still too soon to ask you anything. I just can't wrap my mind around it."

"It's fine," I tell her. And maybe it's not exactly fine, but it's been on my mind a lot too. More than it has been in years. "Celibacy is..." I find the best word I can offer. "Uncomplicated."

"I guess? But -"

"A priest's life needs to be uncomplicated. To take care of the lives of others."

"Isn't it a lot to give up?" She nods inconspicuously to the couple across the way. They clearly haven't given up much.

I don't know if I can answer her honestly this time. Not without making both of us uncomfortable.

"But look at what I get in return," I tell her, trying to keep things light. "Cool robes. Collars. A parish full of loyal parishioners that have to sit and listen to every word I say twice a week. The list goes on and on."

She shakes her head. "Some things will always be a mystery, I guess."

Awkward silence falls between us again and I hate it. Then she bites her bottom lip, like she's thinking it over. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Sorry."

"It's a good thing we're not playing our drinking game," I joke to change the subject. Also so I don't have to explain how... _complicated_ my thoughts have been lately.

"What game?" she asks.

"The one we talked about the other night? Where you drink every time you apologize for something perfectly acceptable. By my count, that would be three, and we're not even there yet."

Bella looks at me skeptically. "It's not a game if I'm the only one drinking. When would you have to drink?"

I know which thoughts will drive me to drink.

"That's between me and God," I tell her with a wink.

"That's not fair."

Given how she makes me feel, I'm going to be drinking a lot tonight. It seems more than fair to me.

"Should we pray about the rules?" I ask.

"Oh my God," she says with a roll of her eyes. But then she remembers who she's with. "Shit. Sorry."

"That's four."

She laughs. "Maybe you should drink whenever you get a little too Godly for your own good."

"I'm supposed to be Godly," I tell her, unable to stop myself. "Priests are the bridge between God and His people."

"That's two," she says, nudging me with her elbow.

I start to correct her, but then I catch myself. And I laugh. "Touché."

"Listen, you're the most virtuous guy I've ever met and I'm one sorry ass sinner. If we really played, we'd get wasted. You know that, right?" she asks.

"Probably." Without a doubt.

"So we shouldn't."

"Definitely not," I agree. Because it's hard enough to keep myself in check when I'm sober lately.

Bella falls quiet again and I wonder if she's regretting inviting her priest out.

Or maybe she regrets inviting Edward.

Would Edward be sitting here wondering, or would he just fucking ask her?

"Bella, what are you-"

"Hey, it's our stop," she says over the sound of the air brakes. She pulls me up out of my seat and dives into the sea of humanity trying to squeeze through the doors of the train and onto the crowded platform.

I'll ask her later.

xXxXx

Outside the station, there's a long line of people waiting to get into the venue but Bella pushes past them all, with my hand tightly in hers. She strides up to a big man covered in tattoos who's standing next to the door.

"Bell!" he shouts over the noise of the crowd.

"D! Been a while."

The large bouncer pulls her into a hug that takes her feet off the ground and she laughs as he swings her around before setting her back down safely.

"Damn, I've missed seeing you around. How's life on the road treating you?" he asks as he shoves her in the arm with an oversized fist.

She rolls her eyes and makes a sound like she's going to be sick. "Don't get me started."

"Ouch, yeah, I heard about-"

"Demetri!" She cuts him off, giving him a stern look that would put Renee Swan to shame."Gonna let us in or what? It's freaking freezing out here."

"Anything for you, babe." He gives her a wink and then pulls the rope aside. His grin turns more menacing as I pass him by, and he looks me over from head to toe.

I should have gone with Endgame Cap.

Demetri gives me a curt nod and I resist the urge to tell him _peace be with you_.

Because I'm Edward tonight. Not Father Cullen.

It's crowded inside. Bella grabs my hand and pulls me close. Close enough to see those little flecks of light brown in her eyes. And the shimmer in her eye shadow. Then she goes up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. Holding her hand like this, her lips tickling me, her hair brushing against my face, she must think this is a date. Right?

"I'm gonna hit the ladies room. Meet me at the bar?"

And, no. We're just friends. Which is a good thing. Because who am I kidding here?

I'm a priest.

In a trendy bar.

Surrounded by people who look like they stepped out of the pages of a magazine. Listening to an opening act that sounds like someone put Nirvana into a blender. Waiting for an up and coming singer songwriter. Craning my neck to catch a glimpse of Bella Swan.

Despite my very rational thoughts about staying sober, I need some help getting out of my own head, so I order something stronger than a beer. I don't have to worry about breaking my vows.

It's not going to happen.

"Hey!" Bella taps me on the shoulder and all my attempts at being rational fly out the window. With that smile, those bright eyes, those glistening lips, and half of her sweater hanging off her shoulder, this is Eden, and God help me, I want to take a bite out of the apple.

_Help me not to focus on how soft her skin looks in this lighting. Or how there's no sign of a bra strap peeking out from under that sweater. What she's wearing, or not wearing, underneath her sweater is no business of mine._

Christ, it's warm in here.

And it's much darker than it was a minute ago. And more crowded. Once the show starts it's going to be close quarters. Maybe too close. Friends or not.

Suddenly I don't know where to look. Her eyes are too tempting. Her shoulder. Her hands. Her lips. I look for the bartender with those drinks.

"I'm sorry," she says as the smile fades from her face. I want to kick myself for letting my concern show. "Maybe this was wrong. Leave it to me to…"

The bartender slides the drinks I've ordered across the bar and I quickly take one and hand it to Bella. "Drink."

"What?"

I pull a twenty out of my wallet and place it on the bar.

"You're no longer off the hook for apologizing," I tell Bella because I can't bear the fact that she blames herself for everything that goes wrong. I'm here of my own free will.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she says.

"I think you do. Why did you ask me out tonight, Bella?"

She takes a drink and closes her eyes for a second. Then she looks at me in that way of hers that makes me think she's seeing deep into my soul. "You were right before," she tells me. "Sex is complicated. I don't need complicated right now."

I nod and swallow down the whiskey, along with the sting of her words.

It's unexpected and completely irrational. I don't have the right to let her feel bad for making me her designated uncomplicated friend.

I'm her priest. It's what she needs.

"Want another?" she asks, her confession forgotten. Or avoided.

"I've got it." I wave over the server.

Bella chews on her lip. "Still okay if I ask you anything?"

I hope it's not another question about celibacy.

"Shoot," I tell her, handing over a fresh drink.

"What about poverty?" she asks.

"What about it?"

"I guess I figured you, um... I don't mean to sound rude, but I figured you wouldn't have any money?"

I have to laugh. It's a common misconception. "I have enough to buy you some drinks. As friends."

"Right. Sorry."

"Drink," I say, clinking my glass with hers because Lord, do I need one. And this time, I feel it burn as it's going down. It loosens me a little.

This is better. Emily Young's supposed to put on an amazing show. And I'm glad I'm here with Bella to see it.

As we finish off our second round, the lights dim even more. A rush of people move toward the main room and the first strains of live music can be heard blasting from the speakers all around us.

"Let's get another and take it with us to the balcony," Bella says, nodding toward the empty glass in my hand.

I reach for my wallet.

"I got this round," she says, placing her hand over mine. My breath catches in my throat. Bella notices.

"Friends, right?"

Yes, we're friends when she reaches for my hand to pull me through the crowd. When she whispers in someone's ear before they let us up to the balcony, when she gets so excited to see her friend walk out on stage that she gives me a small hug as she cheers.

It's our second hug. Not that I'm counting.

She steps back. "Sorry, that was -"

I nod toward her drink. She narrows her eyes. But she drinks. And watches me.

"It isn't a fair game. You're not acting Godly enough for it to be any kind of contest."

It's almost like the Lord's speaking directly through her lips. I'm not being Godly at all.

I take a drink. A long one.

"But why do I get the feeling you're still playing?" she asks.

"Believe me. I'm playing." With eternal damnation.

With the crowd pushing around us and the music on stage, we can't hold a conversation after that. And Bella wouldn't want to. Emily Young's as amazing live as I read she'd be. Don't get me wrong. She's no Bella Swan, but she's good and she gives it her all.

Bella sways next to me. I take a drink. There's a group of guys dancing on the other side of me. They eye Bella. I take another sip. And when the music picks up, people start jumping behind me. Bella cheers. I know this song. It's better live. And we're all dancing. All excited. All cheering along. Bella's singing. I can almost hear her. And I pull her closer because I want to listen to her voice.

And she's in my arms.

"Sorry," I say. Letting her go. Stepping back.

"Drink," she shouts over the music.

And fucking hell. I empty the glass in my hands.

And if I was struggling before, I'm not anymore.

I'm no longer a priest pretending to be some guy hanging out with a friend. I am that guy. Living his best life. With his beautiful fucking friend.

The music slows. Bella plucks the empty glass from my hands and places both hers and mine on the railing. Then she takes my hands. It's too close, but not close enough at all.

She laughs as she sways and places a hand on my waist.

"Dance, Edward," she whispers in my ear. Her breath is electric where it brushes my skin.

Maybe it's the music. Or the alcohol. And being here... with Bella. Maybe it's everything. But somehow, even though some part of me knows it's a bad idea, I hear myself saying okay.

I spin her. And she gives me that smile. Like she knows I'm being a dork, but she's fine with it.

And fuck.

I'm in trouble.

But right now, as Edward, I don't give a damn.

Everything is right as the music picks up again. And it's still right when she whispers in my ear that she's getting us another drink. It's better when she's back.

"Sorry," Bella says to the woman next to me when she stumbles over her feet.

"Drink," I tell her, catching her in my arms.

The way she grins at me is positively wicked. So I drink too.

"I still don't know what game you're playing," she whispers in my ear. Her hand is on my shoulder. The one with the beer is near my waist.

"It's between me and God," I tell her, pointing up to the sky, then to me.

She laughs. And laughs. Still holding me.

"What?" I ask.

"Drink," she says. "You Godly son of a … shit. Sorry."

I bite my lip. I nod to her beer bottle.

"Fuck," she says. And she chugs it as I laugh.

After the encore, Bella pulls me down the steps toward a side door. She knows everyone. With a few words and a hug, we've got passes on lanyards and are being led down a long hallway. Bella charges ahead towards a door and knocks excitedly.

"Emily!" she calls, knocking some more. "Get out here, girl!"

The door's thrown open and the two women scream and throw themselves into one another's arms.

"That was a-fucking-mazing, woman!" Bella calls. "That new arrangement was kick ass. And look at you!"

"Me? Look at you, girlfriend! Vacation suits you," Emily says, spinning Bella and giving her an appreciative once over.

"Ha! Vacation. Where's Seth? He killed it on drums."

I lean against the wall and watch as she catches up with her friend. I'm happy she's happy. She's more comfortable than I've ever seen her before. She's confident and carefree. Everyone who walks by wants to be near her.

I know the feeling.

"Hey, there's someone I want you to meet," she says after a little while, glancing in my direction.

Emily rolls her eyes.

"No, no, no. He's cool." She pulls Emily toward me. I rethink my t-shirt for the hundredth time.

"Emily, this is Fa-, um -" she coughs. "This is my friend, Edward. Edward, this is Emily Young."

Bella looks at me expectantly and I get it. I wouldn't want my friends thinking I brought a priest to the party either.

"Emily, great to meet you." I extend my hand. "That version of _Yellow_ was spectacular. Really great."

"Damn, Bella." She laughs as she shakes the hand I've offered, sizing me up. "Why are you hooking up with losers when… Mm mm mm?" she hums and shakes her head.

Bella laughs. It's all nerves and surprise. And damn, she's glowing. And blushing. All of it suits her in a way her family doesn't get to see and probably wouldn't appreciate. She's unguarded and unapologetic. I'm grateful to be here for it.

She's still laughing when she grabs hold of me for support. And when she looks at me with that gleam in her eyes, like she's the happiest she's been in ages and part of her happiness is because she's here with me.

I'm completely caught up in her bliss and I can't look away - not when she tucks some hair behind her ear, or when she bites her lip, or when I realize I'm holding my breath as I hold her in my arms.

I'm still holding my breath when she stops laughing and smiles up at me. Her eyes search mine. "What?" she asks, breathlessly.

"Christ, you're gorgeous." The words come out like they've been sitting on the tip of my tongue all night, waiting for me to set them free.

I don't even think about stopping myself. And I won't ask forgiveness for it either.

Bella's face flushes and she drops her hands. Surprised and flustered, she's still smiling, but it's different now. She's still watching me closely, like she can't look away either.

"He's kind of taken, Em," Bella tries to explain, answering the question I completely forgot Emily asked.

"Emphasis on kind of," Emily says, breaking the spell. And suddenly Bella's looking everywhere and anywhere. Except at me.

The moment slips away and I hate it even more than the awkward silence we shared earlier on the train.

"Where was Seth?" Bella asks. "I've got to-" she doesn't finish the thought as she disappears into the crowd.

"It's more of a long standing commitment," I say to Emily, as I crane my neck to try to spot Bella in the sea of people around us.

"Keep telling yourself that," she jokes. "If you hurt her, though-"

"We're friends," I say for the millionth time this evening.

Emily laughs again. "Seriously, she doesn't need to be jerked around. Not after the shit Mike pulled."

"Mike?"

"Douchewad tore out her heart on tour. Didn't even bother apologizing. She deserves so much better."

She does.

"You catch her new stuff?" Emily asks. "I don't know where the fuck she gets it from."

"What?" I ask, still distracted about Bella and her broken heart.

"Check this," Emily says, pulling her cell out of her pocket. And before I know it, she's holding the phone up to my ear and Bella's singing the sexiest hymn I've ever heard. The _only _sexy hymn I've ever heard. It's just a few seconds. And then it's over.

"Damn near broke the Internet with this yesterday."

Yesterday. "Really?"

Before or after confession? _Before or after the office visit? _

And before I can work it all out, Bella comes rushing back down the hallway, looking worried.

"Sorry, Em, but we have to go." She sounds panicked.

"Girl, you just got here."

Bella grabs my arm and pulls me toward the exit. "It's my sister."

"Alice?" I ask her.

"Angela?" Emily asks at the same time.

"It's Rose. The baby came early and there are complications. I need to go."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much to Sue for deleting all of our unnecessary words and fixing the ones that are left. To ChrisAnn for giving these chapters a good once over… and you all for reading about a sexy Rock Hymn that may or may not be getting written for real now. **

**ALSO big huge thanks to the Twilight Fan Fiction Finders FB group for mentioning BOC as fic of the week this past week! And for voters who pushed the two of us through as favorite Scribble Alliance in the Twi Fic Fandom Awards! Please go vote for all your faves! Voting ends March 15th.**

**Lizzie Paige makes some fantastic chapter banners for this story - you should check them out over in the group! **


	14. Chapter 13 Fellowship

**Chapter 13. Fellowship**

**Bella**

Emily offers up her car and driver, which is a godsend, but it's still going to take forever to get from Manhattan to South Brooklyn.

"Please, hurry," I beg the driver, wishing I could clear the traffic with my mind.

I check my cell, but I don't have any new updates from Alice.

My foot's tapping. My fingers are twisting. As far as I know, Rose's pregnancies have all been by the book. This is the first time I've ever gotten a frantic call about any of them.

"Shit," I mumble as we stall at a light before we can even get across the bridge.

From the other end of the backseat, Edward takes my hand. I don't think twice as I twine my fingers with his. This is what I need. When I need it. He's so freakin' good, it practically kills me.

"You talk a good talk, Bella, but I know how much your family means to you."

I shrug. "I only have one big sister. Alice and Angela, though..."

"_Cast all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you_," he says quietly, and I'm not sure if it's for him or me.

Either way… "Drink?" I reply.

He smiles. "I wish."

"Yeah, me too." And I pull his hand onto my lap.

"Bella?"

"Uh huh?" I ask. I stare out the window as we slowly make our way over the East River, leaving the brightest lights behind.

"It's going to be okay," he tells me. "I have it on good authority."

I can't help but roll my eyes. "Don't even start with that crap, okay?"

"It's not crap."

"People die all the time, Edward. Bad things happen. God's either a moody bitch or he's just not there. There are no guarantees."

"He's here this time. Trust me."

I shake my head. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I thought _you_ were the incorrigible one?"

"Nope." I finally look over at Edward. He's watching me with eyes full of concern. I shiver. "Just human."

"Funny, me too," he says back.

"Wow. We have so much in common." I laugh a little, but it sounds sad.

Truth is, for a second backstage, I thought we did. I thought maybe he wanted the body that came along with this soul he's trying to save. And seriously, the feeling's mutual.

But that can't be right. He was too unguarded. He sounded too honest.

_Christ, you're gorgeous._

I almost melted in his arms.

It was an absolutely uncomplicated thing to say.

I steal a glance at the good Father as he stares out the window of the car like it's any other night of the week. He might as well be holding grandma's hand, or Emmett's even.

Then it hits me. Maybe gorgeous women are uncomplicated for Father Edward. I went to a Catholic high school. I can see how it might make a certain kind of sense.

"Can I still ask you anything?" I wonder out loud.

He smiles as he looks back in my direction and clutches my hand tighter. "Of course. Anything."

Hot, honest, hand holding priest.

I shiver again. Is it cold in here?

I eye Edward. Nope. Still hot.

I take a deep breath.

"Even a pretty personal question? I know you don't owe me an answer. I'm just a sinning sinner over here."

The corner of Edward's mouth twitches like he's trying not to smile. "Do you know what _anything _means, Bella?"

"Are you into guys?" I blurt out.

And he coughs.

Then he sees me sitting here, waiting for an answer that's probably way too personal.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"Sorry. Just seems like a logical strategy for a Catholic kid, maybe." I try to pull my hand from his. He holds on tight, like he doesn't want to let go.

He narrows his eyes at me. "Would it be a problem for you if I was?"

"For me?" I ask.

"Catholics…" he says with a shrug. Like he isn't one of them or something.

"It's one of the reasons I left the church," I explain. I want him to know I'd have his back. "You wouldn't have to worry about me. But you might have to worry about your God. Rumor has it he's pretty judgy when it comes to this kind of thing."

Edward swallows and looks uncomfortable.

"Listen, I'm sorry. It's really none of my -"

"I'm not gay, Bella."

"Oh." I glance at my lap, at his fingers twined with mine, then back at his face. He's looking at me with that same expression from earlier, from when I fell into his arms laughing. You know, when he told me I was gorgeous.

"Another question?" I ask. My voice sounds breathless and my cheeks go warm.

"Sure."

"Were you lying back there? Backstage?" From the look on Edward's face, it's obvious he knows what I'm talking about. From the look on his face, I also know the answer. I think.

"I'd be an idiot if I was," he tells me. No laughter. No smiles. Not Father Edward. Just Edward, staring straight into my eyes like a very hot, straight, human man.

I'm so out of my league.

He's not into guys. He thinks I'm gorgeous. He's celibate.

And maybe this is uncomplicated for him, but it's beyond complicated over here on my side of the backseat.

"My turn to ask a question?" he asks.

"_I _never promised you could ask me anything," I hedge.

"I'd like to chance it anyway."

_Dear God, please don't let Edward ask whether I think he's gorgeous, because how am I supposed to lie about something like that? He's so fucking hot. Also, bless you for making hot men like him. Amen._

"What?" I ask. My voice comes out in a whisper. I can't look him in the eye.

"Who's Mike?"

Wait. _What?_

My stomach turns. It's not what I expected Edward to ask. At all. And I'm not sure if I'm relieved or repulsed - maybe a little bit of both.

He might be straight. He might like what I look like. But he's a priest, so he's not thinking about jumping in the sack with me. He's worried about how I jumped into the sack with Mike Newton.

Stupid, hot, ethical priest.

The car speeds around a corner and I slide across the leather seat and bump into Edward. We're too close. I want to scramble backward, but I don't. I think he's going to say something about us being so close. He doesn't, though.

"Bella, if you don't want to talk about -"

"Everyone with a pulse knows who Mike is," I admit reluctantly as I stare up into Edward's heavenly eyes.

He looks at me like he maybe doesn't have a pulse, but I know he does. I can feel it in his wrist, thumping against my fingertips. "Mike Newton?" I try to clarify. "Like Mikey Mike?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar," Edward says, but I can tell he doesn't have the faintest idea who I'm talking about. It's kind of comforting, him not knowing who fucked me over.

"I open for him, kind of. Like, I open for the opening act on his tour. I really don't want to talk about it, though."

Edward nods. "I can probably fill in the blanks."

I'm not sure what to say to that. I'm sure I know what he thinks of me, though. It's the same thing everyone thinks. I thought if I left home right after high school I could leave it behind. It turns out it's just me though. You can't escape yourself.

"Bella…"

I can't bring myself to say anything just yet. It's suddenly clear Edward shouldn't be here with me. It will only hurt his reputation in the long run, friends or not.

"He doesn't deserve you. You know that, right?" Edward asks, quiet but insistent.

"Stop it, okay?"

"Stop what? Reminding you that you don't deserve to be-"

"How can you say I don't deserve it when I ask for it? When I do all the wrong things always. With everyone."

He seems offended at the thought. "Oh, you wished it on yourself, did you?"

"I was stupid. I'm always stupid when it comes to other people. When it comes to men," I say, looking into his eyes, acknowledging he's one of those men. He might be a priest, he might be celibate, but I'll find a way to mess this up if I haven't already.

"You haven't done anything wrong when it comes to me, Bella," he says like he knows exactly what I'm thinking. Like he believes what he's telling me with all his heart.

"Yeah, right," I scoff.

"Do you regret tonight?" he asks. And it's such an earnest question I can't lie to him.

"For your sake I probably should. But, no, I don't."

Edward smiles then ducks his head. It's dark, so it's difficult to see, but I think he's blushing.

"You know, you haven't cornered the market on doing stupid things," he says, going into full on Father Edward mode. "Romans says it best. '_For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God_.'"

"Drink," I tell him and laugh a little. But I stop when Edward doesn't join in. He looks serious and troubled. My priest but not my priest tonight. My friend. And all I want is to mess his life up too. "Sorry, Edward."

"Drink," he says back. Faintly smiling.

I wish.

"We're here, ma'am," the driver tells me.

And sure enough, when I glance out the window, a tall, tan hospital building is looming over us. Somewhere inside, my big sister's in trouble. Leave it to me to forget about everything except for the straight, celibate man holding my hand.

"I'm gonna find us some coffee and then catch up with you," Edward says and squeezes my hand before he lets it go.

xXxXx

I head off to find my family. This is Rose's fifth. I don't need directions to labor and delivery, even if I am still more than a little buzzed. From the liquor. And the handholding. And the memories of Edward gazing at me and telling me I'm gorgeous. And the memories of him refusing to take it back.

But when I make it to the fourth floor, the nurse at the front desk isn't feeling generous. "Visiting hours are over."

She doesn't leave room for an argument, but I try anyway.

"I'm not visiting," I tell her. "My sister's in trouble. Something about her blood pressure and an emergency delivery, and I just need to get through those doors. Right there."

I nod toward the double doors and take a step in their direction. The nurse stands, making it clear she's willing to do whatever it takes to enforce the rules.

"I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow," she says like it's the end of the story.

I try texting Alice. I try texting my mom.

"Listen, lady," I begin, sizing her up. I'm pretty sure I can take her.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but-"

And Edward appears at my side with a cup holder and three large coffees.

He hands one to me. "Drink," he whispers in my ear.

I can't help but smile. I find myself kind of leaning into him.

"Father Edward!" the nurse gushes. "Who are you here for so late at night?" She bats her eyes. She smoothes her hair. She blushes, for God's sake.

I know the feeling, lady.

"We're here for Rose McCarty, Shelly." He hands her one of the cups. "Can you point us in the right direction?" he asks her with a wink.

"Oh, Father, you shouldn't have," she says looking between the coffee and Edward. "You're too kind."

"Well, God bless you for working third shift."

Her face damn near turns purple. "I'm sure Mrs. McCarty will be relieved to see you. She's in room 429."

"You flirt." I nudge Edward with my elbow as we walk down the hall.

Edward's cheeks go pink and he can't quite look me in the eye. "Only when the Lord tells me it's necessary."

"Then the Lord is truly evil. Poor Shelly didn't stand a chance when you gave her that look."

"What look?" he asks innocently. He takes a long sip of his coffee.

I narrow my eyes. "Oh, you know the look."

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Bella."

"Yes, you do." I stop in the middle of the hall and grab his t-shirt to stop him too. I catch a glimpse of toned abs. _Lord Almighty._ My mouth goes dry. "You know the look. Give me the look, Edward."

And he does. Edward's eyes smolder as he gazes down at me, like I'm the only woman in the hospital. Hell, in the whole world. And I almost die on the spot.

"That's the one," I mumble, letting go of his shirt. My cheeks are on fire as I start walking down the hallway again. I think I know what a hot flash feels like.

"But only if the Lord tells me it's necessary," he repeats, quickly catching up with me.

His Lord has no mercy.

"You only use your powers for good, Buck?" I nod to the t-shirt stretched across the broad chest. _Christ._

"With great power comes great responsibility," he teases. I shake my head. He's such a geek.

He runs a hand through his hair, and his biceps flex.

He's a hot geek. The hottest geek I know.

He doesn't even know how hot he is. God, I love that about him.

It's a good thing he doesn't wear Marvel t-shirts more often. Every Catholic female in Sheepshead Bay would faint dead away.

"Can I ask you another question?" I wonder out loud.

"You don't have to ask permission every time you want to ask me a question, Bella. Just ask."

"Do you work out?" Because seriously.

From over my shoulder I hear someone gasp. I look up to see my whole family staring at me and Edward, their mouths hanging open.

"Oh..." Edward says, dragging it out like he doesn't want to finish the thought.

"Shit," I moan, doing it for him.

"Bella!" Mom scolds.

"Sorry, Mom."

"Drink," Edward whispers in my ear, tapping my coffee cup with his. I can't help but laugh. He laughs too. We both drink as my family stares like we just landed from Mars or something.

"Father Edward?" Alice asks, looking between the two of us.

Edward tries not to choke on his coffee as he swallows it down. "Hi, Alice." He tries to straighten up and conduct himself in a more Godly way. "How's Rose doing?"

"She's in surgery, Father," Dad answers, shaking Edward's hand. "Thank you for coming. Rosie had to deliver tonight to keep them both healthy. It's a helluva thing. We're all sick with worry."

"Go figure. Bella's drunk." Angela stares me down, folds her arms across her chest, and shakes her head. "I'd say it's unbelievable, but… not so much. We don't need you here, Bella."

"She rushed all the way from Manhattan, Angela." Edward's stern. Like Old Testament stern. "I think Rose would want her here if she knew how worried Bella was."

He's so stern that Angela shuts the fuck up.

I'm either drunk or swooning. Maybe both.

I glance up at him and he smiles back, almost defiantly.

Yeah, definitely both.

It's all I can do to not to take his hand again.

"Alice, did you call Father Edward?" Mom asks. She's suspicious, but I can tell she's not sure of what just yet.

Alice is still looking between me and Edward. She doesn't answer.

"I needed him," I say. Truer words have never been spoken.

"What?" Dad asks.

"I needed his, um... " and I give Edward a quick once over. "Help?" I feel like I need Edward in a million indecent ways right now and half a dozen decent ones. Help is as true as any of the other things that come to mind.

"We were…" Edward's voice trails off, struggling as much as I am.

"Fellowshipping?" Alice asks.

"Right!" I say.

Edward snaps his fingers and points to Alice like she's saved the day.

"In Manhattan?" Angela asks.

I shrug. "Why not? God doesn't have a lock on Brooklyn, Angela."

"This seems very unorthodox, Father," Mom says.

"You know I've never been a very orthodox priest," he tells her, standing his ground, unashamed of being with me. I wish I could kiss him right now.

"Listen, Mom. It's gonna take a lot to get through to someone like me. He's pulling out all the stops." I smile up at him.

He grins back before turning to my family again. "That's very true."

"Sorry if I got you into shit with my family, though, Father."

"Drink," he says.

I giggle as I sip my coffee. My face is warm. Yeah, it's hot in here - as hot as the priest staring at me in front of my family. So fucking hot.

"Why the heck are you with him?" Angela asks me. "This doesn't make any sense."

"You know what, Angela. Get over it," Alice says.

"Excuse me?"

"You were pissed at Bella when she hung out with Ben."

"When she _kissed_ Ben."

"_He_ kissed _me_!" I try to clarify for the hundredth time.

"And then you were angry with her when she wouldn't talk to Ben. You get pissed at her when she's not acting religious enough. And now what? You're angry with her for spending time with a priest?"

Angela's mouth hangs open like it's frozen that way. I'm kind of thrilled to see Alice take her down like that. For me… and Edward.

"Your Great Aunt Sylvia hung out with priests from time to time." Dad winks at me. "She was double Catholic, you know."

"I don't… think that's a thing," Edwards says.

But I'm loving my dad double, maybe even triple right now. And maybe I can't hug Edward in front of the family, but I can hug Dad.

"Thanks for being here, baby," he whispers in my ear, giving me a squeeze. "It means a lot."

"I love you too, Dad."

"And any time you want to give it all up and just tour Brooklyn -"

Dad looks at me hopefully, like he's really expecting an answer. Like he thinks I'll just give up everything for a Brooklyn brownstone and an overbearing mom.

"I, uh -"

Emmett bursts through the swinging doors like the firefighter he is, interrupting all the family drama. "Yo! It's a boy!" He throws his hands up in the air like he just won the Super Bowl in blue scrubs, slippers, and a surgical cap.

Mom cuts through the crowd and grabs Emmett's arm. He wraps his arms around her in an enormous bear hug.

"Rosie's gonna be okay, Ma." He plants a big kiss on her cheek.

Everyone forgets about my un-date and huddles around my brother-in-law instead, clapping him on the back, hugging him, laughing and celebrating. I breathe easier hearing Rose is safe and also because I'm no longer in the spotlight with Edward.

"That was close," I say, but when I turn back toward the spot where Edward had been standing, he's gone.

I glance around the waiting room and think I catch a glimpse of him as he turns a corner. I disentangle myself from the rest of my family and hightail it down the hallway. I have a feeling I know where he's headed.

I stop when I find room 429. "I heard the baby is -" But the words lodge in my throat as I push open the door.

It's Rose's room, alright. She's lying in bed with a tiny baby on her chest and Edward's there with her too, kneeling next to her bed. He's holding her hand just like he'd been holding mine. His other hand is on the baby. His head is bent as he whispers a prayer, reverent as always.

I knew it from the first time we spoke. He really is a good priest.

I can't fuck this up for him.

Tonight was amazing, but it was wrong.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out. It's a text from Jake.

**Rose ok?**

And how the hell does he know? But he's asking because he cares.

I leave Rose with Father Edward and take a few minutes to text Jake back.

* * *

**A/N: When Jo and I started writing this fic we had a few ideas about what might be in store in the months to come. Make confession sexier - check. Write a sexy hymn and put it to music - it's happening. We never even considered the possibility of a worldwide pandemic, but here we are. Important facts you should know in these scary times: **

**1 - There is no coronavirus in this fic. The characters can hold hands. They can gather in groups of 10 or more. They can even kiss... I mean, if they wanted to.**

**2 - Jo and I vowed that if one of us is taken out the other will make sure this fic is completed. If I go then Father will probably say 'fuck' a lot more. If Jo goes, Jake's probably not long for this world. It is what it is. **

**Anyway, eternal thanks to the ladies at A Different Forest for their shout-outs! Blessings to SueBee for editing while simultaneously tracking dogs through the Alaskan wilderness. And peace be with ChrisAnn for taking time out to read our sinful tale. **


	15. Chapter 14 Chastity

**Chapter 14. Chastity**

**Father Cullen**

The rectory is quiet when I get home. Jasper's left the light on in the entry, but he didn't wait up.

I'm grateful, since I still feel a bit intoxicated. That would be awkward.

I'm also humbled by his faith in me.

Faith I wish I had.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Dear Lord, see me through these hard times." I give a drunken man's sign of the cross and utter the prayer of faith quietly as I switch the lights off on my way through the kitchen.

"In these troubling times, I'm filled with fear. I reach out my hand to You now, and ask You to walk beside me." I kick my shoes off at the bottom of the stairs.

"I can't carry these burdens, but I know You can, and will. Walk beside me. Guide me." I pad up the stairs, careful not to step on the loose board in front of the guest bedroom Jasper is using.

"Help me be strong, through trials and storms. Help me hold on to my faith, in even the darkest hour." I sit on the edge of my bed and lean forward, putting my face in my hands.

I whisper the rest. "Stay with me Lord, show me Your way. In Your love and Holy Spirit I abide. Amen."

Even as I finish the prayer, and I know it's what I _should _be doing, it doesn't feel right.

As I change out of my clothes, I realize, it's because I didn't see tonight as _troubling times_. I didn't feel like I was struggling through trials and storms or that was carrying a burden.

I wasn't filled with fear.

I had a great time with an amazing woman. Even though, yeah, maybe I feel some lingering guilt, it's not guilt about hanging out with Bella. It's not even about drinking and dancing with her. It's guilt leftover from a childhood where I was taught it's how I should feel.

I try praying again. This time for things I'm truly carrying in my heart.

I thank the Lord for delivering Rose and the baby safely tonight, for Alice's loyalty to her sister, and for the way Charlie loves Bella, with almost no strings attached.

I thank Him for Bella's nonconformist spirit and her open heart, despite the challenges she faces. And I pray for the Swans to open their eyes and see this for the blessing it is. I ask him to take Bella's burden and make her see that she's not to blame for the poor choices others make.

Praying this way settles my heart but not the rest of my body. I still toss and turn. I kick at the blanket and it crosses my mind that maybe I _should _ask God's forgiveness after all. But when I try, I find it impossible. No words come to my mind.

Instead, I thank Him for making this evening possible. And I thank Him for placing Bella in my path. Without her, I would never have taken a night to just be Edward.

As I think back over each part of the night Bella and I spent together, I remember the piece of the song Emily played for me.

Bella uploaded it yesterday. She mentioned it in confession.

_I wrote this song. Don't know if God's cheering me on about it._

And from what I heard, Bella was right. It is blasphemous. And it's also good. Really fucking good, as a matter of fact.

I don't know about God, but I'm certainly cheering her on.

The snippet Emily played was just a hymn, but the way Bella sang it was practically profane.

Were there other lyrics?

I roll over and pick up my cell phone. I spend roughly twenty minutes searching before I find Bella's profile on SoundCloud. She's prolific. There are dozens and dozens of tracks going back more than five years, and the most recent upload was from yesterday.

Called _Lust_.

I play it. It's a longer version of the same hymn, but it's still too quick. So I set it up to play on loop and I lay back down, letting it drown my thoughts.

Her voice is haunting. I've known these words since I was a kid. Latin. English. Back and forth. It's like she's touching every inch of my body with her voice.

And fuck, I wish she was.

I don't know if I've ever wanted anything more.

I close my eyes and I see her again.

I see her eyes as she laughs.

Her bare shoulder.

Her lips.

Her hands.

I think about the way her body felt against mine when we danced.

Okay when _she _danced.

And I grin, thinking about how happy she seemed when I held her in my arms. Dear God, I want to affect her like that again. The way Mike didn't. The way Ben didn't.

I imagine this is another bedroom, and I'm just Edward again. Then I imagine all the ways I could possibly make her smile.

xXxXx

At breakfast I'm dying. I can't even look at an egg, much less cook one.

_Jesus, please let this pain in my head be a bad dream. _

Coffee is out of the question.

"You don't look so good, must have been one Hell of a visitation last night," Jasper says, pulling open the fridge and grabbing the orange juice.

Blech.

I point at him and avoid his question. "Hell again? You're forming a bad habit, Jasper."

I shuffle to the pantry and look for something bland and bread-ish.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks, ignoring my bait about Hell.

I shake my head. "Later, maybe."

I'm not just avoiding the inevitable. It literally hurts to speak.

He nods. "I've got some appointments over at St. Michael's. I'll catch up with you later?"

"Sounds good." I'm thankful for the promise of some peace but not so keen about talking later.

"Hey Edward?" He shrugs on his jacket.

"Yep?"

"'Nothing is covered up that won't be revealed or hidden that will not be known.'"

And yeah. He knows.

xXxXx

I make it into the office with just five minutes to spare. My head's still pounding. My stomach lurches with any sudden movement. I find an old bottle of Aleve in a desk drawer and wash a couple down with a liter of water. I've got Angela and Ben's final marriage counseling session stretching like an endless hour ahead of me, and I don't think I'll get through without some assistance.

I put my head down and close my eyes and curse the nausea.

Then I think about holding Bella in my arms, and it was almost worth it.

_Definitely worth it. _

"Are you alright, Father?" I hear Angela ask from the doorway. "Should I come back?"

I try to ignore the way my head pounds when I pick it up from the desk. "No no. Come in." I wave a hand, and she tentatively steps into the office. I wait for Ben to follow, but he's nowhere in sight.

"How are you this morning? Where's Ben?"

"He's not coming." She takes a seat and studies her hands in her lap.

"Because you need a one-on-one session?"

She shakes her head and dabs at the corner of her eyes. Then looks up and smiles bravely. "He forgot. And now he has some other plans."

_Thank you, God._

"Angela, it's okay. We can reschedule. There's plenty of-"

"Golfing! He's golfing while we're supposed to be talking about our marriage. With our priest."

And now she's crying.

I walk around to the other side of my desk and sit in the seat where Ben should be. I hand her a tissue and silently pray I won't be sick.

"I've seen this kind of thing happen before," I tell her.

She looks up at me hopefully, like with just a few words of scripture all of her fiancé's actions could suddenly make sense in the eyes of the Lord. I'm a priest, though, and a hungover priest at that. I'm not a magician. Ben needs to show willingness to change before this can be put right.

"Sometimes, men like Ben…" I cough.

"Unmarried men?" Angela asks.

"Unmarried men, right. Some unmarried men might forget to take their partner into consideration... sometimes."

Ow. My head.

"It's like he doesn't even want to be here today." She sniffs. "With me."

"Can I ask you a question, Angela?"

She blows her nose. "I guess."

"Are you happy in your relationship?"

Angela starts crying all over again. Harder this time.

I was expecting her to say yes and smile. It never crossed my mind she was anything less than content.

I reach for her hand and she holds on tight. She blows her nose into the tissue.

"Do you want to marry Ben?"

"You don't understand!" _Jesus Christ, please make her stop shouting._

"We have the rest of the hour. Explain it to me."

"Father, I _have _to marry him." She looks desperate… and sad.

"It's never too late to change your mind," I tell her. "Marriage is a sacrament. You should be certain it's what you want."

"I _have _to marry him," Angela insists again.

"No, you-"

"I'm pregnant."

"-don't have to..." _Wait_. "What?"

It could be the hangover. I might have heard her wrong. Either way, is this the same woman who was just judging Bella for drinking with her priest?

When Angela sees my expression, she scoots as far away from me as she can without getting up out of her chair. Without dropping my hand.

I remind myself she's one of God's children.

"I'm pregnant." She sniffles and takes a deep breath then looks me steadily in the eye. "I'm sorry, Father. I know it's a sin. We shouldn't have… you know. And we shouldn't have kept this from you."

_We_? "Ben knows?"

Where is that bottle of Aleve?

"Of course. It's why…" And then she stops herself. Tears stream down her cheeks as she pulls her hand from mine, checks her phone, and angrily texts someone.

"I see."

It's worse than I thought.

I spot exactly what I need sitting on the other side of the desk and reach for it. I struggle with the childproof top. Apparently it's hangover-proof as well.

"Everything was fine until Bella showed up."

"Excuse me?" And now I'm _certain _I heard her wrong.

"Don't let her fool you, Father. I warned Mom what was going to happen, but she swore we _had_ to invite her."

"You blame Bella… for all of this?" I sigh. I pop two Aleve in my mouth. "Would you like to expand on that reasoning?"

"She's always taken everything from me, Father, since we were kids. Teacher's attention. My parent's attention. Ben. Like there's no room for anyone else when she's there. And the more she pushes people away, the more they want her!" Angela throws her hands into the air and looks heavenward, like she's asking God himself for an explanation.

"Angela." _Lord help me deliver this advice with the least bit of harshness possible._

She looks at me. Her eyes are red. Her nose is red. Her lips are quivering.

I start with a simple question, taking the same example Jasper gave me the other night.

"When Adam took a bite of the apple in Eden, who did he blame?"

"Eve." She sniffs again.

"Was that fair?"

"_No_," she says, somewhat defiantly. "He totally threw her under the bus because he didn't want to get thrown out of the garden, but it was his doing, all by him-" She stops before finishing the thought. "self."

I give her a moment to let what she just said sink in.

"But if Eve hadn't given it to him-" she starts to tell me, but I have to stop her this time.

"I don't think you really believe that."

She can't answer me. I didn't expect her to.

"Just like I don't think you really believe your sister is to blame for Ben's shortcomings. And she certainly isn't to blame for your pregnancy."

"But you were here every week counseling me and Ben. You can see how it's all gone to Hell now that-" Angela's eyes go wide and she covers her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, Father."

"For blaming Bella?"

"For saying He… ell," she finishes in a whisper. "I let my anger get the best of me."

"I don't give a damn about Hell, Angela."

"Father!"

I bow my head but not to pray.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping it will help with the headache as well as the nausea. And I try to gather my thoughts.

"I'm fairly certain," I begin, "No, I'm _absolutely _certain Bella isn't the reason things aren't _fine_ with you and Ben."

"We were getting married, Father. Having a child together. My dream."

"You were lying to your priest."

"We never lied."

I narrow my eyes. "Do your parents know?"

"Mom, maybe. Not exactly. She probably has her suspicions. Not Dad."

"Did you think starting out a marriage with lies and self-deceit would be a good foundation for a long, happy life together? For a lifetime of trust?"

Angela starts crying all over again.

"We have no choice, Father. You must know that."

"You always have a choice, Angela. God gave us free will."

"Have you met my family? There are no options here. None." She's dead serious. No more tears. Just sheer determination. "This baby is a sign from God, okay? It's a sign I won't ignore."

"A sign you're not willing to share with your parents," I remind her.

Angela's eyes go wide. "Dad would kill him."

"I know Charlie well. He's not killing anyone."

"Ben would hate me."

"If Ben hated you for seeking guidance from your family, you'd have bigger problems to worry about than having a baby with him."

"I'm _going_ to marry him. We're _going _to be a family. We _have _to be."

"And _I am _going to need to see both you and Ben here in my office, and we need to talk openly and honestly about all of this if that's going to happen. You and Ben need to stand in truth before the Lord. I won't marry you under any other terms. Do you understand?"

Angela bows her head. "Yes, Father."

Thank God. I don't know how much more of this conversation I can get through today.

I sit next to her and bow my head, too. I ignore the nail I'm sure is being driven between my eyes. And we pray.

For God to guide Angela and give her strength.

For Ben to humble himself before Angela, their parents, and the Lord.

For the health of their unborn child, whose mere existence is unwittingly bringing Angela and Ben together at the same time it's tearing Angela up inside.

After she leaves, I collapse into my chair. I don't want to let my disappointment in Ben harden my heart toward him. Really. I don't. It's not my place to judge. That's His job. My job, if I can get past this hangover, is to guide these two and help them to walk in the Lord if they're going to insist on going through with the marriage.

Then I think of Bella. And how she blames herself for… all of this.

No way in Hell she knows Angela's pregnant. If she did, I'm sure her friend Edward would have known by now.

Despite any of it, and because my head aches too much to think it through, I need to leave it with God and get some work done today. I have a list of parishioners I need to call, home visits I need to schedule, and a meeting with the deacon who leads St. Mary's homeless ministry. But between every call and after each meeting, I find myself glancing toward the doorway, hoping to find Bella smiling playfully down at me.

In fact, I find myself surfing the Internet, looking for upcoming shows, daydreaming about Bella and her friend Edward going out again. Dancing again. Holding her hand. Making her smile all night long.

I still have a lingering headache when my cell buzzes sometime after noon. I'm tired. I'm dehydrated despite drinking countless bottles of water. But none of that matters when I see who's sent me a text.

**HEY. How's things? **

I lean back in my chair and smile like an idiot. I decide I deserve a break from all things Church related.

**Not good - my head hasn't hurt this bad since I was ordained and celebrated with a case of Miller High Life**

**srsly? Miller High Life? :-/**

**It was a long time ago. I knew not what i did**

**You poor lost soul. Sorry about the hangover tho** \- she quickly replies.

Of course she is. I laugh as I send her my response.

**Drink. LOLOLOL**

**On it. Angela was evil this morning.**

There's no doubt Angela is wrong to take things out on Bella, but I can't help but feel for her now that I know the pressure she's under.

**Cut her some slack? Just a suggestion**

**Noooo. She got to you too? **

I understand where Bella's coming from, but still I try again.

**You remember the golden rule right? **

She doesn't respond. And I imagine her there, rolling her eyes. I grin as I text it to her.

**Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?**

Bella's reply is quick this time. **Maybe she needs her priest. He's apparently really good at that kind of thing.**

**Maybe her priest was already there for her ;-)** \- I type and hit send.

**Of course he was. Drink, you Godly son of a …**

I have to laugh. **I'm working, Bella.**

The laughter hurts. But I'm completely fine with it.

**Ugh. Well then maybe she needs her fianc****é****. Who keeps texting me btw. Wants to talk**

I debate my next piece of advice.

On one hand, I want to be a good friend. One who encourages her to tell this guy to fuck off. But on the other hand, I know that's not the way to righteousness.

And _maybe _Ben is plagued with guilt, himself.

**He has plenty to apologize for. Maybe you should consider letting him unburden himself.**

I wait. And wait.

And wait.

**Bella?**

Then finally… **Maybe.**

I add - **He does have a lot on his plate these days**

I watch bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again. And I wonder if I'm right. Or if I'm getting it all wrong.

**Well, Angela is a piece of work. I can commiserate with him for sure.**

**Bearing each other's burdens fulfills the law of Christ you know.** I immediately regret sounding like I'm giving her a lecture.

**First of all, I'm not bearing Ben's anything. **

**Second - You owe me two drinks, buddy**

I grin again. But honestly, I want to throw up just thinking about it.

**Put it on my tab - I'll pay it when I'm no longer in poverty.**

**LOL hey, thanks for last night** \- she types. **I needed some normal before heading back out on tour.**

My head spins. I'm not sure if it's from of the hangover or because I forgot she won't be here much longer.

Regardless, **Thank YOU.**

**Are you Edward right now? Or Father Edward?**

It's a good question. I give it some real thought before I reply.

**Both?**

**Does that get confusing?**

And it probably should. **It doesn't feel confusing today**.

**Maybe you're still drunk.**

I laugh.

**Entirely possible**

Another endless minute goes by before I get her next text.

**I'll add this to my list for my next confession. Just wait. It's going to be a really good one. **

And it momentarily stops my breathing altogether.

I think about her last visit. Then about her song. The words. The way she invaded my dreams last night. I don't have a quippy comeback for her this time.

**Looking forward to it. **

Because I'll take time with her any way I can get it.

**Cool. See you around, Father. Also Edward. **

_Dear God, let it be so._

* * *

**A/N: Who knew Angela was preggers? WHO? Personally, I'm more concerned with Fr. Edward's choice of beer back in the day. And Bella's next confession.  
**

**Hey - THANKS SO MUCH to LayAtHomeMom for mentioning this fic in her futuretake for _Burning Saints_. Which, when you think about it, is highly appropriate. And THANKS to The Lemonade Stand for the shout outs they're always giving us - and THANKS for reading, despite the high exposure to sin (and religion) in this fic.  
**

**Bless Sue for her skills at making sure we don't over use words (too much) and to ChrisAnn for peeking at these chapters before we hand them out to the world. **

**Did we mention how grateful we are that you're here? BLESSINGS & hoping everyone is healthy.  
**


	16. Chapter 15 Sin

**Chapter 15. Sin **

**Bella**

* * *

I text Ben because Father Edward has been right about pretty much everything. He's probably right about this too. It's best Ben and I move on. If he's going to be my brother-in-law, he can't keep hounding me, and I don't want to feel guilty every time I hear his name.

**Meet me at Billy's?** I suggest.

His reply appears in an instant.

**Not Billy's**

**Where then?**

**You know where. An hour?**

I know where. It's stupid and it's a stereotype, but it is what it is, I guess.

I head out to meet Ben underneath the bleachers at my old high school, because apparently he's still emotionally seventeen. Also he probably doesn't want to get caught, which is what landed us here over and over again back then.

Also because it's where he listened when I needed someone.

Also, because he probably shared stuff with me here too.

It was our place. A good portion of his high school graduating class would agree. Ben was not subtle.

He smiles when he sees me walking his way, and I do my best not to grimace. He holds out a forty like I'm fifteen.

But I need it, and he knows it.

He was always annoyingly good at anticipating my needs.

"What do you want?" I ask, leaning against the brick wall where the bleachers meet the locker room. I take a swig of the malt liquor. It's bitter and sweet, which is kind of perfect when I think back to the years Ben and I overlapped at Nazareth.

He leans against the wall next to me.

"That how it is?" he asks, one foot against the bricks, his free hand deep in his pocket. He sips at the beer and looks away toward the traffic out on the parkway.

"You want something more from me?"

Ben's quiet, noncommittal. We drink.

"I miss this," he says eventually. Sincerely.

I close my eyes and I see flashes of the two of us. Him older, taking time out to talk, then kiss, then unbutton my top. I learned early on he wasn't going to talk to me between classes. He wasn't going to hang with me after games. He never invited me to homecoming. It's not like I would have gone anyway.

"The old glory days?" I ask.

"Us, Bella."

I snicker. "There was never an 'us'."

"You didn't let us be," he insists.

I laugh and laugh and laugh, and when I'm done, Ben's looking at me like I've hurt his feelings.

"I was a kid, Ben."

"We were both kids."

"You were older."

"Those afternoons here. Me and you." He bites his lip and looks me over. "That week you were suspended."

Ben ducks his head and tries to hide his smile. My skin crawls. Is he for real? Mom almost killed me when she found the two of us.

"You want that kind of thing back? Maybe start cruising the bleachers on a Friday night."

"That's not fair," he says.

"You know what's not fair? You hounding me for the last three days just to talk about ten year old blowjobs under the bleachers instead of talking with me about Angela - who you're _marrying_ in less than two weeks."

Ben shakes his head, exhaling in a low whistle.

"_She_'s the one who always loved you, Ben."

"You didn't?" he asks, looking me square in the eye, daring me to deny him.

"You wished," I say then take another swig. Two truer words have never been spoken. I knew he wanted more from me even though he pushed me away. It took some time, but I figured out why he kept coming back.

"Shit, Bell. I still do," he says in a voice that's low and smooth. It's a voice I remember from when I was a kid. He takes a step, closing the space between us. My back's to the wall, and I don't have anywhere to move.

"What the fuck, Cheney?" I push against his chest.

He clasps a wrist with his free hand. "Bella, I'm freaked. Like I'm not supposed to be with anyone else ever again? The other night when we kissed it felt like old times."

"It sure did. I let you take advantage of me again. It felt like shit. Again." I shake him off.

"I'm sorry," he says in a voice so low I can hardly hear it over the rush of the traffic. But my stupid heart swells with sudden, unexpected hope.

I glance up at Ben and he's staring intently.

"For what, exactly?" I ask.

I hold my breath, waiting for the apology I didn't know I wanted. For the apology I'm not entirely certain I deserve.

Ben looks off toward the parkway again. "I thought I could do this."

"Do what?" I'm ashamed of the hope I hear in my voice. I shouldn't want anything from this asshole, but I guess I want one more thing.

"I thought I could marry her."

And I have a literal knee jerk reaction. Like my knee jerks, right into his balls. Ben doubles over, swearing. His forty drops to the ground and breaks, splashing us both.

"Go to hell, Ben. Get the fuck out of here! Get the fuck away from my sister, you slimy piece of shit." I push him aside, trying to get out from between him and the wall. Ben loses his balance and falls into the puddle of beer.

"Christ, Bella -" he gasps, glancing up at me with a red face and tears streaming from his eyes. That's when I notice the bloody palm and the jagged piece of beer bottle.

I cringe. "Sorry."

Then I hear Edward in my head telling me to stop taking responsibility for everyone else's mistakes. I practically laugh. "I'm actually not."

"The fuck?" he asks as I loom over him.

"I'm not fucking sorry!" I shout. And it feels so good. I could practically dance in the puddle of beer. "You deserve this, you asshole. And so much more."

"But, Bella-"

"You heard me. Leave me alone. Leave Angela alone. Leave us alone, Ben Cheney. I never want to see your face again."

xXxXx

Hours later I'm still sitting on the bleachers at Nazareth. I'm warmed from the outside by rays of setting sun and from the inside by cheap liquor and smug satisfaction.

I'm not sure Father Edward meant it was okay to assault people without apologizing when he told me I say sorry too much. I'd like to think the guy I went out with a couple nights ago would approve, though. The one who held my hand and stuck up for me in front of my family.

I close my eyes and pretend that guy's with me right now, holding my hand again, wearing another one of his tight t-shirts. He'd tell me something religious and strangely comforting. And maybe he'd give me the look.

That look.

Shelly Cope knows the look. Emily Young knows it now too.

That look is anything but comforting. It gets you a car and driver in a time of need. It opens doors to medical wards. I'm sure it wheedles confessions from tried and true criminals.

It's wheedled one or two from me, that's for goddamned sure.

Not to mention, memories of it make words pour from my fingertips. Since Tuesday I've laid down three more tracks. One of them is full of chaste innuendo about holding hands.

Edward's celibacy is my new drug. That look of his is the high I'm worried I'll never reach again.

I tip my beer bottle to my lips, drink the last warm drops and shudder. Without Edward's hand in mine, it's all I've got to help steady my nerves before I head home to face Angela.

I've got to come clean. Ben's probably going to need stitches.

I can't help but smirk, overcome with ridiculous pride. A knee to the balls never felt so fucking good. I lean back and bask in the sun and just barely catch myself before I almost topple right off the bleachers.

I guess pride really does come before a fall.

_Pride. _

From what I remember, it's definitely a sin.

I chuckle to myself as I pull out the little pad I've been carrying ever since I started writing again. I add my pride to the page I titled 'Sins' which is funny in itself because I'm proud of my list.

I plan to hit Edward up tomorrow and talk about my misdeeds in his dark, dank box. Whisper them through the grate and gaze at his shadow, like we're trading secrets. Maybe I'll pass him another note.

And I'm dying to get back there. To speak with my priest.

Someone should check on hell. I have a feeling it's frozen over. I squint into the setting sun, just to make sure it's an airplane flying overhead and not a pig.

It's not. It's the little black silhouette of a jet plane soaring through the prettiest sunset I've seen in months. When I was a kid, I'd watch the sky bleed from blue to pink to black whenever I'd sit out here after school, buzzed, maybe a little high, forgetting about all the shit that happened between classes, and making the moment last before facing new shit at home.

And here I am walking home again. Buzzed again. After fighting with Ben again. Worried about getting into it with Angela. Like I fell back into some old pattern without even trying.

Like it's a pattern I never found my way out of.

It's all I can do to check and make sure I'm not in my old high school uniform as I unlatch the gate and walk up the path to the front steps. There are lights on inside and I watch shadows move from the kitchen to the living room and back again.

I hear Mom's voice rising. The baritone of Dad's voice as he tries to settle her down.

I try to imagine how I'll explain any of this to Angela.

_I accidentally cut Ben's hand. I didn't kiss him this time though._

It's not enough.

_Angela, Ben's having doubts. _

And I hate it, but I know what I have to say.

_Angela, he's not good enough for you_.

Because, Lord knows my sister's a bitch, but she's still my sister. She deserves better.

I take a deep breath, unlock the door and walk inside. Mom and Dad are going at it over something. I eye the stairs as I start to shrug off my jacket and kick off my boots, hoping to sneak up to Angela's room and talk woman to woman. Except I stumble over the bottom step.

"Isabella?" Mom calls. Pronouncing every syllable of my name in that way that lets me know I'm in for it.

I roll my eyes. She's probably still angry over the marinara incident.

I glance between the stairs and the front door and consider running for it.

Chairs scrape in the kitchen. Shit. There's no running. I try straightening my clothes. I pat down my hair. And Angela takes me by surprise and comes charging at me from the kitchen. Her face is red and tearstained. Her eyes are wild.

"You did this!" she shouts.

I try to back up, but trip over the stairs and end up on my ass. Mom chaises after Angela and literally has to hold her back.

"What the fuck?" I ask, scrambling out of the way.

Mom's eyes go wide. "Watch your mouth, Isabella."

I can't help but snicker. My mother's worried about the word fuck while Angela's going insane.

Fucking shit. Angela's gone insane.

"What did Ben do now?" I ask. "I didn't mean to cut him like that. It was an accident."

"You cut someone?" Dad asks, joining us in the living room.

"He said he talked to you. He was fine before he talked to you!" Angela shouts.

She's crying. Mom's trying to hug her as she whispers in her ear, telling her she needs to settle down. That all this stress is bad for the baby.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." I hold up a finger and try to make sense of what they're saying. "What's Rose's baby got to…"

Mom looks at me accusingly. Dad's jaw clenches. Angela wraps her arms around her midsection.

"You've got to be shitting me. _Really_, Ang?" I crumble back onto the stairs.

Lord help us all.

"Did you know your sister was pregnant?" Mom asks, hands on her hips, taking a step in my direction.

"Oh Ang," I sigh.

My sister collapses onto the couch and practically dissolves into a puddle of angry tears. I'm just about to pull myself up and go console her when she growls, "And then you broke us up, you _bitch_."

Wow. So much for empathy.

"What the fucking fuck?"

"Language!" Mom shouts.

"You convinced Ben to break up with me," Angela wails.

"I didn't know you were knocked up! He's an asshole, Angela. I'll kick his ass all over again."

"Don't you dare go near him, you whore."

"There's no need to stoop to her level." Mom pats Angela on the shoulder while she shakes her head at me, glaring.

"My level, Mom? I haven't done anything!"

Dad takes a step between me and the rest of my family. "Have you been drinking, baby?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.

"You stole my husband! My baby's father," Angela shouts.

I peek around Dad's legs. Angela's practically shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

Bitter laughter bubbles up from the pit of my stomach. "That's disgusting. You're insane. Not for all the record deals in the world."

"Leave her alone, Isabella! Look at what you've done," Mom says, motioning to my sister.

"Right, Mom, because if there's one thing you've made clear since I was in high school, it's that I'm responsible for what Ben Cheney does with his dick!"

"You're drunk," Dad says, like he's finally sized up the situation, and it all comes down to my drinking. "Still, you should watch your mouth."

"That's all you have to say?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Bell, honey..." His eyes are sad. Resigned. He reaches for me, but I scramble to my feet and back down the stairs.

"What about them?" I point to my mom and to Angela who's still sobbing on the couch.

"What about 'em?" He looks puzzled, like I asked about advanced algebra or something.

"You can't always be Switzerland, Dad. Sometimes you have to pick a side. Just once you should pick mine."

"Bella, it's not that easy."

"Well, it should be."

xXxXx

At first I'm not sure where I'm walking. One foot steps in front of the other. I think about getting a cab and a plane ticket, but I don't know where the plane would take me. They're not expecting me back on tour yet, and I can't show up when I'm the opposite of together. I'll get the boot for good.

I sublet my room back in L.A. and it would be weird to show up out of nowhere looking to sleep on the couch. I tick through distant friends and over-friendly fans. I think about showing up on Jake's doorstep more than once. I know he'd take me in, but the idea feels wrong.

I finally decide I'll get a hotel room and figure it out. I'll get the hell out of Brooklyn. Get the hell out of New York. I don't know why I thought I could come home. I don't know why I thought time would heal all wounds or whatever shit people say. I don't know why I've done half of what I've done… ever.

I make self-centered, headstrong mistakes. I act without thinking. I give my family too many reasons to judge me.

And at first I don't know why I end up here, standing outside St. Mary's. Until I wipe the tears from my eyes. I grab the little pad in my pocket and figure out what I need. When I need it.

The church is really dark. Streetlights make the stained glass glow. The saints loom over me. Jesus looks sad and lonely on his cross. Pretty little lights flicker in red and gold glass jars, each one another hope. Another prayer.

And I stop short when I notice him in the back row of pews.

He's alone on his knees with his head bowed, praying under his breath. His words are a low murmur. A holy whisper in this empty space.

"I've never questioned you… I won't ignore this… I can't."

He looks up at the altar; at Christ hanging up there, dying on the daily for everyone's sins.

I'm tingling all over as I walk quietly up the aisle toward him.

"I wish you'd give me a sign," he whispers to God.

I slide into the pew next to him and gently nudge his shoulder. "I need you."

Edward's head snaps in my direction, and at first he doesn't say anything. He just stares at me, confused. Then at Christ, hanging from above.

_Dear God, don't let him turn me away like my family did._

When he finds me again, his features soften, and I swear he smiles. It's like he's relieved.

The feeling's mutual. There's nowhere I'd rather be.

"What are you doing here?"

I clutch the pad in my pocket. "I need confession."

A small huff of laughter escapes his lips. "It's after nine, Bella."

My eyes threaten more tears and I quickly wipe at them. "I don't care."

His laughter dies. He looks concerned. "We could just sit and talk, Bella. If you don't like this pew, we have a hundred others to choose from."

I glance down at my hands twisting in front of me. "I can't look at you and say what I need to say. I know what I need. Please."

He hesitates for a moment.

_Dear, God_ I begin to silently pray.

"Okay," he says, interrupting my thoughts. "Okay. Let's go."

He lets me take his hand as I stand. Thank God.

I glance at Jesus overhead. _Thank you, God._

And I lead Edward to the confessional.

Suddenly his hand is on my shoulder, kind and gentle like he's afraid he's going to frighten me away with his touch. "Are you sure?"

I shrug him off and climb inside without looking back.

Alone, in the dark, dank box, I curl into a ball and I cry. At first it's soft - a few tears and a sniffle. But then it's all too much and I can't hold it in anymore. I don't want to. I'm grateful for the solid walls and the secrecy. And there's no one else I'd rather have outside right now than Father Edward.

Until he's not standing outside. Until I hear the door click on the other side of the confessional. Wood creaks all around me as Edward takes a seat.

There are no formalities tonight.

"Please talk to me," he says.

"Forgive me Father," I begin. "For I've been sinning my entire fucking life."

"I don't like this, Bella. You don't sound okay."

"I'm not okay. It's been three days since my last confession."

"Tell me what happened."

I don't know where to start. I can't find the strength to keep the pain in anymore. I'm shaking, so I hug my knees to my chest and try to hold myself together.

His hand presses up against the grate separating us. I want to reach out and touch its shadow, but I can't. And I can't seem to talk anymore, either. I've already said the only three words I know at the moment.

I need him.

But what I haven't said is that I want him.

And I'll probably hurt him.

And I should definitely go.

Just as I'm contemplating walking away, Edward steps into the confessional and kneels before me. I feel his fingertips on the tops of my feet. He doesn't say a word. He just waits.

And waits.

Until I can breath more easily. Until I stop shaking quite so much.

"I did everything I was supposed to," I tell him quietly, my head still buried in my knees. "I talked to Ben and it just made it worse. So much worse."

"Fuck. I'm sorry."

I smile because I'm glad Edward's there with me in the confessional. Not just the Father. More than anything, I could use a friend.

I wipe my eyes and slowly let myself relax. I let go of my legs and let them slide to the floor.

When I look at Edward it doesn't seem quite as bad as it did a minute ago. Not when he's here and he cares.

"He left her," I admit to him and the tears start again. Ben's an asshole, but I never wanted my family to truly hate me. I never wanted to hurt them like I did.

"What?" Edward asks, and he wipes a tear from my face with his thumb. I lean into his touch, and place my hand over his. Holding him there.

I hear the breath catch in his throat, but he doesn't pull away.

"Ben left Angela because of me. They hate me."

"They don't hate you," he whispers.

He cups my face in his hands so I have no choice but to look in his eyes.

"Father. Edward. I'm no good," I whisper. It's so hard to get the words out when he's this close. "I don't think I can be fixed."

"Bella, God made you. You're in his image and you're _exactly _who you're supposed to be. You don't need any fixing. Besides, some of us happen to adore you. As is."

I lean my forehead against his, and I breathe him in. I let him prop me up because I can't do it anymore.

He gazes into my eyes and I feel like my chest is going to explode.

This time the look's just for me.

My hand shakes a little as I reach out and run my fingers through his hair until I'm holding the back of his head. And he doesn't pull away. Not at all. I think he's holding his breath.

I watch for any sign. Lightening should strike if this is wrong, I think. Or maybe the ground should open up beneath us and swallow me whole. A plague of locusts should descend. But it's so quiet. Like there's only the two of us in this whole world.

"Father?" My voice is breathless and rough. "Edward?"

"Bella, I -"

But I don't let him finish. I press my lips to his. It's just a brush of skin against skin. It reminds me of linen sheets in the summertime or snowflakes falling into an open palm. And everything melts away.

His lips are so soft. And still. And the tiniest breath escapes from his mouth.

And when I move my mouth against his he groans.

"Fuck." It comes out of him like a plea. Or a prayer. In a voice from a version of Edward I've never heard before.

"I'm so sor -" I begin to say. But then he's kissing me back. Slow at first. Delicate and unsure. Innocent even.

I thread my fingers through his hair, afraid he's going to pull away. Instead, he leans in. He slips his hands from my face to the wall of the confessional on either side of my head, trapping me there - like he needs the support.

I part my lips and it's as if he's been dying for permission. Our mouths move together, his tongue slow and curious, savoring every moment. His teeth click against mine and a strangled sound rumbles from deep in his chest, like he's fighting for air, or fighting himself. Fighting for me.

With both arms around his neck I try to tug him closer. Instead, he stands and I'm pulled along with him. I'm a live wire that needs grounding, and Edward gives it to me. He presses his body against mine, pushing me back against the wall of the confessional, showing the strength he keeps hidden under his clerical clothes, showing me how much he wants me. Our chests rise and fall like we've run miles. He keeps his hands fisted against wood on either side of my head.

Then his lips wander and I stretch my neck to give him better access. To my jaw, my neck, behind my ear, down to the collar of my t-shirt.

And then he's panting. And leans back against the grating.

His fingers touch his lips and his breath is shaky.

I think I broke him.

When I start to speak, it's like he knows what's coming and he holds a hand up, shaking his head, stopping the apology before it can even begin.

"I should go," I find the will to say, seconds, minutes, years later.

"I wish you wouldn't."

"Thanks for… this," I say, finding the door handle. "I needed this."

"This?" he asks as a sliver of gray light slices through the small space. I slide into the sanctuary. The saints stand all around us, silent witnesses. "Bella…"

"Edward?" I watch him walk into the light. His eyes glow as bright as the stained glass. "Maybe this is the one thing I should feel really sorry for. But I'm not."

* * *

**A/N: Well… the world is broken, so we decided not to wait to post this. We also may have broken SueBee with this chapter. Please pray for her. And for ChrisAnn. We need our BoC team to stay strong because there's so much left of this story to tell. **

**Many thanks to AnIllicitWriter for adding us to her Forbidden Twilight Fanfiction Community. Many thanks to the ladies on facebook for keeping smiles on our faces through this madness. **

**And in all seriousness. Stay safe. Stay inside. We want you all around to read the end of this! **


	17. Chapter 16 Confirmation

**Chapter 16. Confirmation**

**Bella**

* * *

I plop down onto the curb once I'm around the corner from St. Mary's.

That's when I notice I'm trembling.

I brush my shaky fingertips over my lips. They're still tingling.

Holy shit.

I kissed my priest. And I liked it.

Who am I kidding? I fucking loved it.

I think I one-upped Katy Perry.

And I left that priest without looking back. Don't judge - there would have been no stopping me. Instead of high school bleachers, it would have been pews at the back of the church.

I'm a menace.

And for a priest, Edward is a surprisingly good kisser.

My body aches in all the places I wish he'd have touched, and I wrap my jacket around myself, desperate for any kind of friction.

Then I pull out my phone to start looking for a hotel because I can't spend the night on this curb.

That's when I see the text from Alice. My new favorite sister.

**You ok?**

I am far from okay. I have half a mind to head back to church and finish what I started. The other half of my mind wants to track down Ben Cheney and knee him in the balls all over again.

**Um** \- I text back.

My phone's suddenly buzzing. Alice is on the line.

"They're insane," she says before I can get a word out.

"Alice?"

"Are you at Billy's Place?"

I look up at St. Mary's bell tower looming over me and almost laugh.

"You'll never guess."

"Jake's?" she asks in a scandalized whisper.

I shudder at the thought. "I'm at church."

And there's silence.

"Alice?"

"Fellowshipping again?"

I laugh out loud, surprised by Alice's sarcasm and surprised by the sound of my own voice. I'm giddy. Full of nervous energy. "I'm sure you're not the first person to call it that."

I glance over my shoulder at the church. Now that I know how that man kisses, I don't think those stone walls are strong enough to keep me out.

_Dear God, what the fuck do you want me to do here?_

I sigh. Alice sighs on the other end of the line. "This is good. I'm glad Father Edward was there for you. Angela's lost it, Bell. Did you know she's-"

"Pregnant," we say together.

"Yeah." I groan. And I kind of wish I was still angry about the fight with Mom and Angela, but all I can think about is my sister's tearstained face. The desperate look in her eyes.

"It's not your fault," she says quickly.

"True facts. I did not impregnate our sister." I think Alice might be the only one in my family to fully appreciate that bit of knowledge.

"About Ben," she adds. "It wasn't your fault."

Tears prick my eyes. Because I still kind of think it is. What if I never met him today? What if I just shut my mouth for once and walked away?

"They're way out of line, Bella."

Thank God for Alice.

I glance at St. Mary's.

_Thanks, God. _

"You home?" I ask, surprised I don't hear all hell breaking loose on the other end of the line.

"Um…"

"Are _you_ at Billy's?"

I hear whispering in the background. "I couldn't stay at home. I think I'm… leaving. Maybe."

"Like running away?" I'm immediately on my feet and looking around like I might spot Alice ducking behind a car or hopping a fence.

"I'm twenty-one, Bella. I'm not a little kid anymore. You left when you were eighteen."

I was seventeen. Mom didn't give me many options. But I'm not going to argue technicalities at the moment.

"For good?" I ask.

"I just can't anymore. You have no idea how hard it's-"

"Do you even remember who you're talking to?" I interrupt.

Alice chuckles bitterly. "I do. It's another reason I left. Tonight everyone was acting especially… _bat shit crazy_."

I swear it's the first time I've ever heard Alice curse. I can practically hear her blush.

"You want to stay with me?" I ask. "I'm getting a room. Somewhere. We could order room service? Plot how to save Angela from herself."

"I, uh -"

Yeah, the part about Angela was aspirational, at best.

There's more whispering on the other end of the line. "You should come here," Alice finally says.

"Where's here?"

"Jane's."

"Is that a restaurant? A bar?"

Alice hesitates. "A… friend?"

I chuckle. "You're not sure?"

And even though Alice is still just whispering on the other end of the phone, I sense new urgency in her hushed conversation. _Shit._

"You'll like her, Bella," she finally says.

"Alice, that's sweet, but I'm in no mood for a sleepover."

"It's not like that. _Please_?"

And I can hear it in her voice. My little sister knows what she needs. When she needs it.

I glance back at the church and remind myself it's not all about me.

"Sure thing. Text me the address."

xXxXx

I've barely knocked on the door of apartment 11C when it's thrown open and Alice launches herself into my arms, almost knocking me off my feet. My back collides against the opposite wall.

"Hey, hey." I pat her on the head. She buries her face in the crook of my neck. "I'm okay, Alice. I'm not the one carrying Ben Cheney's love child."

My little sister steps back and smiles up at me. "I'm just so glad you're here."

"Yo, me too. Have you seen hotel prices in this town? I was this close to staying at a Motel 6 on Staten Island."

Alice wrinkles her nose.

I laugh. Then notice a pretty girl about Alice's age in the doorway of the apartment.

"Jane? Of Jane's place fame?" I ask.

Jane grins and holds out her hand. "Alice told me you were funny. It's nice to finally meet you, Bella."

Alice's friend does her best to give us some privacy in the tiny apartment. Basically, she makes sure I'm comfortable, then locks herself in the bedroom. It was either that or the bathroom, really. Jane's little space is tidy and chock full of books. A bookshelf takes up one entire wall, and they're piled up on either side of the couch, almost like end tables.

"I can see why you two are friends," I say, running my fingers over the spines. "Jane's probably not much for bars, either."

Alice tips her mug of herbal tea in my direction. "Nope. She doesn't drink."

I sit down and start Googling nearby liquor stores.

Alice takes a seat on the other side of the couch and tucks her feet underneath her. "Our family keeps too many secrets."

I glance up at my sister and she smiles awkwardly. "Well, they're all out in the open now, I guess." I shrug.

"Not all of them."

She's right. But I have no plans to tell Alice about _fellowshipping_. About how Edward didn't lay a hand on me, but how he pressed his body up against mine, and, with just a tilt of his hips, he took my breath away.

"Christ," I whisper under my breath. My hands are shaking again.

"Like you and Ben," Alice says.

And I want to vomit. _"What?"_

"You heard me." She places her mug down and looks at me earnestly. "I'm the only one who doesn't know what happened."

"First of all, there's no me and Ben."

I've mentioned Alice's side-eye abilities, right?

"It was forever ago, Alice. You were a baby."

"If I heard right, it was just last week."

My whole body goes rigid. I hadn't been expecting an interrogation from my baby sister.

Alice stares at me calmly. She smiles, but she's not backing down. It's like someone infused Mom's persistence with sweetness. Wait until she has kids some day. They're going to be lucky little buggers, but they're not going to get away with a single thing.

"It was right after I got into it with Mom," I admit.

She grins. "Which time?"

"Ben and I bumped into each other at the liquor store. I didn't want to go home. We talked and, well... Back in the day, Ben and I were… _friends_."

"With benefits?" Alice asks quietly, suddenly staring at her lap.

I can't help but laugh. Alice might be uncomfortable, but she's not as naive as I thought.

"Point is, Ben and I were over back when we were still kids. I was younger than you are."

"I'm not a kid. I-"

I wait. Alice doesn't finish her thought, but there's something weighing her down on her side of the couch. I can feel it.

I give her some space - as much as I can find in five hundred square feet. As I glance around the room, I notice photos of friend groups. Jane, Alice, and a pack of wholesome-looking girls at Coney Island. At Rockaway Beach. At a Broadway show.

For the second time in a week, I feel a pang of guilt about how I don't know my sister at all.

"Anything else you need to know?" I ask her.

Alice shakes her head dramatically.

"Oh my God. Go ahead. Ask me anything." I'm so sincere, I surprise myself. Suddenly I'm like Father Edward over here.

And I see what he's been doing since the day we met. I know I don't have to keep asking permission to ask him anything. He'll always answer.

Kind, caring, kissing priest.

Right now, I'd tell Alice anything so she feels safe enough to say whatever's on her mind.

"You and Jake?" Alice guesses again.

I groan. "There's no me and Jake, either. Okay?"

"I guess I could kind of see that. Jake's a nice guy though, Bell. Someone you could really confide in… If you needed to, I mean."

I shrug my shoulders and sip at my goddamned herbal tea. "I've never been into perfect, I guess."

Unless we're talking perfect priests.

"Plus you have the Father to-"

"There's nothing going on between me and Father Edward! Okay?"

Alice jumps. Her eyes go wide. I think I accidentally shouted.

Jane peeks her head out of her bedroom. "You guys okay?" she asks, looking between Alice and me.

_Why do people keep asking me this?_ Especially when I'm not okay. I've somehow broken out into a sweat.

"We're good, ba-... _Jane_." Alice smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I wish I knew what was wrong with her.

Jane holds out her mug. "Okay if I top myself off?"

Alice damn near jumps off the couch. "You want some Raspberry Zinger, Bella?" she asks. "Or maybe Calm Chamomile?

"Depends, is that a new brand of Scotch?"

Jane winks at me on her way to the kitchen area. "I'll make you one of my patented virgin hot toddies."

My mind reels at the thought of spending a sober night in a stranger's house.

After kissing Edward.

After he kissed me back.

Thinking about how he pushed me up against the confessional.

Thinking about his breath on my neck. His lips behind my ear.

The hard length of him pressed between us.

And I melt into the couch and open my eyes.

Alice and Jane are talking in a low whisper. Jane's hand is on Alice's hip as she reaches around Alice for a jar of honey. Alice picks at some lint on Jane's sweater and playfully pulls out her ponytail.

Oh my God.

I must make some kind of noise because Alice and Jane both turn to look in my direction. Their fingers brush, their hands instinctively drawn to one another.

I can't help but smile.

I think my little sister's in love.

xXxXx

Everything's a hazy kind of blur after that moment. Alice changes for bed in the bathroom, and it's clear I'm sleeping on the couch and Alice is sleeping with Jane. My little sister can't quite meet my eyes when she returns with bedding and helps me with the fold-out.

I keep sneaking looks. She keeps avoiding them.

Until we're unfolding a sheet and our hands meet, that is. Alice jumps away from me like I just tried to stab her.

So I drop the sheet and take her hand.

"She seems really nice," I say matter of factly. Because it's true. Jane seems kind and attentive.

Alice blushes. She bites her lip and looks anywhere but at my face.

"I didn't know."

"Yeah, well…" she starts to say. Fumbling for words. "I mean, I…"

I pull her down onto the unmade bed.

"Mom and Dad?" I ask.

Alice shakes her head. "Oh my God, no."

Oh shit. I almost forgot about God.

I spot the little gold cross hanging from Alice's neck even in her nightshirt. I may not know Alice well, but I know the church has been the most important thing in her life since she was a little kid.

Then I think about Father Edward asking me if it would be okay _with me_ if he were gay. And I nearly cry.

Kind-hearted, open-minded, kissing priest.

"I got your back, Alice. You know that, right?"

She throws her arms around me again. This time I'm prepared. This time I hug her back.

xXxXx

After Alice and Jane are in bed for the night, I climb into the fold-out and pull out my phone. I'm hoping to zone out on Instagram and ignore their whispers through thin apartment walls, or avoid thoughts about anything else too meaningful.

It's been a day. A day and a half, if I'm being honest. And it's not over yet. My manager's all up in my DMs. He's been on Soundcloud.

**This is a miracle** \- he says, and links to my track. **This break was the best idea I ever forced on someone! You have the whole thing down? Because I'm gonna push this for all it's worth**.

A smile spreads across my face.

Is this what it means to fail up?

**U like it?**

He replies with a gif of a silver screen siren fainting dead away. **Close your set with it when you're back**. **It gives me about a week to build some traction. U do u - cause right now you're on fire.**

And it's happening. I'm going back on tour. I can make it another week. Then go and sing a song about my sexy as fuck priest. Who I just kissed.

And a text pops up on my screen.

My hand flies over my mouth.

**Tell me you're okay.**

I practically squeal. Just seeing his text makes me tingle from head to toe. I might have been okay a second ago, but now I'm not even close. I can hardly breathe.

Little bubbles appear. Then disappear. Then appear again. Then nothing.

**I'm with Alice** \- I reply

**Thank God** \- pops up in seconds. Like he's used to typing those letters. I'm sure he is.

Because I get it. He asked me how I felt about being gay the other night because he was looking out for Alice. He asked me to be kind to Angela because he probably knew she was pregnant and engaged to a dipshit. And just a few nights ago, he was kneeling before Rose and praying for her and her baby.

And sure he's ridiculous.

And hot.

And he kisses like he could patent that shit.

But more than all of it...

**You're a really good priest** \- I reply without thinking.

* * *

**A/N: These are trying times, so we're trying to get you the chapters you need... When you need them. SueBee's doing the Lord's work this week and editing on the fly. Chrisann's studying speed-reading in quarantine. They say learning a new skill helps pass the time.**

**You know what else helps to pass the time? Escaping into a good fic. This week Jo and I have been reading & loving:**

**_The Funcle_ by Mrs. Spacecowboy - Successful and slightly older Bella and a sexy musician Edward who loves his niece and puppies. Hot and sweet!**

**_Love in My Box_ by cosmoandmarvar - You read that right... Cosmo and Marvar are updating LiMB and making us laugh about social distancing. The _only_ time I've laughed about covid-19...**

**Let us know what you all are reading and loving... so we can all stay home, stay safe, and stay entertained.**


	18. Chapter 17 Absolution

**Chapter 17. Absolution**

**Father Cullen**

"Thanks for… this."

"This?" I ask as she kneels before me.

"Yeah." Bella's fingers slowly work the zipper. Her hand glides against me. The friction makes me harder than I thought possible. She whispers, "This."

I close my eyes as she pulls at my jeans. I hear her sigh. I feel her hot breath against the sensitive skin.

And then her lips surround me.

Soft. Warm. Wet.

Without warning, she takes all of me in her mouth, and the tip of my dick hits the back of her throat.

"Jesus."

She hums as her mouth moves up then down my entire length.

She sucks.

She licks.

Her teeth graze.

Her hands slide up my legs, leaving goosebumps behind.

I press one hand against the confessional, the other combs through her hair.

I try to breathe.

I thrust as her mouth moves forward.

Then slightly faster.

The sensation of both pain and pleasure start to take hold.

She doesn't stop.

"Bella."

She hums again, and my hips move, more urgently.

She knows what I need more than I do.

Then my breath catches and she takes all of me again as I cum.

"Fuck."

I blink and we're on the pulpit, the entire congregation watching. Judging me. Judging Bella. Ben Cheney leers as he holds Angela's hand. Charlie Swan covers his eyes as Mrs. Swan weeps.

Jasper places a hand on my shoulder and glances down at Bella. "Her body is a temple, Edward. You should always put her pleasure before your own."

Church bells toll and the pews begin to empty. Bella gazes up at me. Then the bells are louder, incessant. They sound… like my alarm.

I struggle to open my eyes.

I stare up at the ceiling.

I'm not in St. Mary's. There are no parishioners. Bella is not on her knees before me. I'm both disappointed and grateful.

I throw an arm over my eyes and feel pangs of guilt.

For the fantasy of defiling not only the house of God, but Bella as well.

"Christ."

xXxXx

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

St. Luke's parish is about five miles from St. Mary's. I visit every so often to get away from the noise of my own parish, to be anonymous.

To get absolution.

I could have asked Jasper to hear my confession today. He'd have been happy to oblige.

I could have. But I didn't.

Couldn't.

Not yet.

"It's been twelve days since my last confession." _Twelve hours since I kissed Bella. Two since I woke up in a sweat._

That kiss sparked something in me that never existed before.

Something I want sparked again.

_God help me._

I give the sign of the cross.

"Go on, my son," the older priest says. His voice is low. It's rhythmic and soothing like he's been saying these words for a century and he knows how to use them.

I used to know how to use them. I used to imagine myself, much like him, still doing this fifty years from now. Today, I'm not so sure.

"I…" Words get hung up in the back of my throat. I have no idea how to say what I'm supposed to say. And I hate that I feel guilty about something that felt so fucking fantastic.

That kiss.

It left me weightless. Speechless.

I close my eyes and I hear her saying my name. Whispering it. I see her eyes pleading with me. I feel her lips touching mine.

I think about how I very desperately wanted her to touch me. How I couldn't bring myself to do the same because if I had, Christ, I wouldn't have been able to stop.

She said she wouldn't apologize for that kiss, and I didn't want her to. But that dream made my own guilt abundantly clear.

So why can't I get the words out?

"I kissed a woman," I finally say. Out loud. And the words fall flat. They sound generic and meaningless.

Bella's anything but meaningless.

And that kiss … was anything but generic.

"Go on," he says, nudging me to spill my guts.

"I've had impure thoughts."

I laugh. Because they're beyond impure. They're filthy.

And his silence is torture.

I replay those few minutes with Bella in the confessional again.

Leaning in.

Pressing my lips against hers.

Mouths opening.

Tongues touching.

Her neck. Her shoulder.

My entire body came alive with just one kiss.

Fuck.

"I can't get her out of my head, Father," I finally add. "I don't think I want to."

"I see."

The judgmental tone of his voice has me thinking maybe he knows who I am. He doesn't say any more and I'm not about to confirm his suspicions.

I clasp my hands in front of me and lean my forehead against them, and I hear Bella's voice again, just before that kiss.

_Edward_.

I remember the text she sent me last night.

_You're a really good priest._

I let out a frustrated sigh. I'm not convinced I am because coming from Bella it feels more like an indictment than a compliment.

"I don't know where I fit anymore." The words just kind of spill out. It's a confession I hadn't planned to make. One I hadn't known I needed to make. But it's been there, in the back of my thoughts, since the day I met her.

"The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way," he tells me, quoting Psalms.

"That's just it." I laugh. And it's bitter. "He's not establishing anything."

"He will," the older man assures me. "In his own time."

His tone is pompous and arrogant, and I'm losing my patience. I don't know why I thought I could have an actual conversation in confession.

"I don't f-" I stop myself from being disrespectful. "I don't have time, Father."

Bella will be gone soon, back on tour. I need to make this right before she leaves.

"Psalms promises, the heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his -"

"Jesus Christ," I huff, and when the good Father gasps, I go ahead and finish my thought. "Stop handing out textbook answers for crying out loud. I need more than…" No. _Screw that_. "People need more than that."

Done with trying to find some peace, I push open the confessional door and leave, disappointed in the priest of St. Luke's.

Disappointed in the entire Catholic Church.

In God.

But mostly, disappointed in myself.

xXxXx

At St. Mary's, I try to get some things done but my heart isn't in it. Every time I step into the sanctuary, I see the confessional and regret washes over me.

I wish I'd have handled things differently last night.

I wish I hadn't let her go.

I wish I'd followed her outside. And while I might not want to admit it, somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I really wish she'd taken me between her lips the way she did in my dreams.

I wish I had an easy answer for all of this. For me. For her. For us.

She slipped into my pew in the exact moment I was asking God for a sign.

She had one request.

Just one.

To give confession.

And I somehow managed to fuck that up.

I think about the pain I saw in her eyes when she asked, about the tears she tried to hide.

All this time I've been encouraging her, wanting her to open up. Wanting to be the person she could count on to help her through whatever's been troubling her. I wasn't prepared for how I would react when she finally did.

And then there's Ben.

It's been a long time since I've wanted to hurt one of God's children.

When I reflect on all the sinners I've counseled, I've always been able to remain an empathetic listener. It's never felt this personal. I've never been driven to seek retribution. I've never wanted to take God's justice into my own hands.

I know I should do what's right in the eyes of God. I know I should pray to St. Maria Goretti and ask her to give me peace. To give me the strength to forgive.

I'm just not sure I have it in me. Because, really, am I any better than Ben?

Bella came to me for help.

She needed me.

Whether I was her priest or her friend, I failed her. I didn't give her advice. I didn't give her hope. Instead I took something I had no right to take.

Maybe I thought I would do the right thing. I wanted to do the right thing. It's all I could think about leading up to that moment.

Just before that kiss.

Just before her lips touched mine and made something that should have been the worst thing I could have done become the best thing I've ever experienced.

_Fuck_.

"Fuck."

I rub my eyes and tell myself there has to be a way to make this right.

"I'm taking the rest of the day off," I tell the church's secretary as I pass by her desk.

Her head pops up from behind her file cabinets. "What about your one o'clock?"

"Reschedule it," I answer over my shoulder.

Before I head for the rectory, I glance around, hoping maybe Bella's come back. Hoping she hasn't. Praying I do the right thing, this time, if she does. Whatever that is.

There's no need for concern though. She's not here.

xXxXx

_Edward_.

I've replayed Bella's voice, saying my name, and the kiss that followed a million times by the time Jasper makes his way inside the house. I'm not sure where he's been all morning. I'm not sure I care.

He spots the cigarette in my hand and we lock eyes for a few seconds before he makes a beeline toward the fridge.

"I take it you could use a cold one." He grabs two. "Rough day already?"

I take the beer and put the cigarette out. I was done anyway.

The alcohol is all good going down, which is why I proceed to drink the entire beer.

"That bad, huh?"

He waits, like always.

When I finish it off, I set the empty bottle down and look up at my old friend. "I need to tell you something."

"Of course." He takes a seat across from me.

"First, though-" I eye him carefully. "Are you Bishop Whitlock or Jasper right now?"

"I'm whoever you need." His eyes are understanding. His voice is even. We've been here before. And he uses the same words I've used with Bella because I've learned from the best. And I'm grateful he's here with me.

I don't respond yet, because honestly, his answer isn't good enough. And when he sees I'm not in any kind of a debating, or joking, or sane mood, he changes his tune.

"I'm Jasper," he tells me with all seriousness, leaning back in his chair.

And now it's enough.

"I kissed her." I exhale like I've been holding my breath for an eternity. Maybe I have been. Maybe since a week ago.

Jasper doesn't say anything at first. It's like we're back at St. Vincent's, staring each other down to see who's gonna break first, in the middle of some dumb ass argument about some dumb ass shit that doesn't mean anything to anyone but the two of us and God.

Even when he's silent, talking with Jasper feels much different from talking to the priest at St. Luke's. His love and acceptance are unconditional and irrevocable.

I should have started with Jasper.

He stays quiet for a minute. Or maybe an hour. I don't know. It's hard to tell when my mind is back in a dark, dank box, kissing a woman who makes me want to be less of a priest and more of a man.

Jasper nods his head like he's come to some sort of conclusion and then he taps the table with his knuckles.

"I think I'm gonna add your name to the list of hopefuls for that diocese over in Italy."

"What?" Not how I expected him to react or how I wanted him to.

"Just in case," he says, typing a note into his phone. Sending a text. Committing me to Europe, for all I know. "You never know where God's gonna lead you with this, whatever it is." He sets his cell down and looks me in the eyes.

"That sounds more like a Bishop Whitlock kind of thing to do. I thought you said-"

"It's also something a good friend would do." He shrugs. "To give you options."

He's got me on a technicality.

And yeah, he means well. That doesn't mean it makes me feel any better about it. I stare at the floor as my insides churn with anxiety.

"You can't be everything to everyone, you know," he tells me.

I nod. "I know."

"Especially not with this. Not with her."

I don't disagree but I don't exactly agree with him either. I may not know how to reconcile all of this right now, but I know I don't want to abandon Bella.

"You can't be the girl's priest and the reason she needs one, Edward."

I'd forgotten just exactly how naked Jasper can make me feel. It's like I'm wearing nothing but my emotions.

I take a long, deep, shaky breath. Because fuck. "I know."

"And you can't make a sound decision when you're so close to her that you can't see the big picture." He hesitates for dramatic effect. "God's picture."

I nod. I know. But I can't say it. Not out loud. Not this time.

"I'm here for you," he reminds me, leaning over to clap me on the shoulder. "Should we pray?"

And Bishop Whitlock is officially back.

I give him a weak smile. "I feel like that's all I've been doing lately, Jasper. So, no."

He purses his lips. I can't tell if he's disappointed in my answer. Not that it matters at this point.

"I'm here for that too, then," he tells me as he stands. He gives my shoulder a squeeze as he starts to go. At the stairs, he stops and turns to me again. "Edward?"

I look over at him.

"You need to talk to her. Regardless."

And yeah, I know.

Jasper doesn't come back downstairs again until he's on his way out to meet up with some deacons for an evening class on leadership. He doesn't bother asking if I'd like to join him.

As the sun goes down and the room darkens, I sit contemplating everything that's led me to where I am. It would be easy to wish Bella had never stepped into the confessional at St. Mary's.

But I can't wish her away.

Because every day since we met, I look forward to seeing her smile, hearing her voice, watching her laugh.

She's irreverent, improper, unguarded.

She's apologetic but unapologetic all at once.

I wouldn't exchange any of it for anything.

But maybe I shouldn't have told her we could be friends. Maybe that was too ambitious.

God brought her to me last night. He showed me she needed guidance. Not a kiss.

But, fuck, I don't know how to not be her friend. I don't know how to not want her.

There's no un-ringing that bell.

There is something I can do about how we move forward though.

And maybe that includes me trying to be a good priest.

**Hey** I type and then, despite my nerves, I hit send.

Bella answers my text almost right away.

**Hey there **\- she replies.** Priesting out?**

And just like that, I'm Edward again. Concerns about biblical consequences fly out the window. I want to see her again and hold her hand, kiss her in the light of day.

**Not exactly. Are you still okay?** _God please let her be okay._

**I don't think okay covers it really.**

I'm pretty sure I know how she feels.

**I think we might have found another one of your super powers last night-** she texts.** Nice work keeping that one on the DL**

I shake my head at the screen. Christ, do I want to kiss her. Give it another shot. See if I could do even better a second time around.

**I don't think I'm the only one with super powers**\- I text back.

**Yeah. You know me. Super messy.**

**You're not-** I tell her.

She doesn't answer this time. She starts to. I see the bubbles on the screen but then they stop long enough for me to realize - I'm doing it again. I'm lost in another dream of the two of us together. So before she can say anything, I text her again.

**Can I see you tomorrow?**

**Yeah?... Yeah :-)** \- she texts back.

My heart speeds up and my stomach tightens. Every time I'm with her it's like this, even over a text.

**Where-** she asks. **And DO NOT suggest your box. Off the table for us.**

I bite my lip and I don't know why I'm trying so hard not to smile. She can't see me.

But as much as I want to joke around with her about boxes and drinking games and things that are off the table for us, I don't.

I suggest a coffee shop over in Coney Island.

She agrees.

And I just hope I can pull myself together enough to be a good priest. For her sake, if not for mine.

* * *

**A/N: So… that happened. And you didn't even need to be six feet away to witness it. **

**HEY, many many blessings to MrsSpaceCowboy for rec'ing this heresy on her last chapter of The Funcle! Which you should totally be reading BTW. That Edward is... NNF. And THANKS so much to Sue, who takes time out of her life to correct our blasphemous words. AND ChrisAnn for blessing them. And to YOU ALL for continuing to want to know if this priest is gonna bone his parishioner or not. **

**Hope everyone's staying healthy out there. See you next time. **


	19. Chapter 18 Faith

**Chapter 18. Faith **

**Father Edward **

I'm early for my lunch date with Bella.

Nerves eat away at me like acid through metal. I'm not sure I can hold down the coffee in front of me, much less food. Instead, here I sit, craving something I know I'll never have.

Cars drive by outside. I busy my mind by counting out of state license plates. Then I start organizing the sugar packets at the edge of the table. When the cafe door opens and a bell rings, I look up and attempt to swallow down the ball of tension sitting at the back of my throat.

Bella looks fantastic, as always. No one makes jeans and a t-shirt look as tempting as she does.

I stand as she walks over to the booth. My mouth is dry, my hands unsteady. My heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest.

I can't help but smile though. I asked to see her and here she is. And I can see from the look on her face that she wants to be here... with me.

"Black Widow. Nice." She gives my chest a nod of approval. Then she looks up and we lock eyes.

I shrug. "She reminds me of you."

"Not Captain Marvel? I could save the universe, Edward." She punches my shoulder with a little more force than strictly needed, like she's trying to prove her Captain Marvel chops.

"Ow." I rub my arm in mock pain as she slides into the booth across from me. "But Black Widow has way more character development."

"As if it's _her_ fault and not the writers'."

I laugh, taking a seat and remind myself I'm not here to debate the inner workings of the Marvel universe. I'd really like to - we haven't even ironed out if she's Team Cap or Team Stark.

_So many questions. _

I clear my throat and force myself to focus.

She nods to the untouched cup of cold coffee. "Irish this time?"

"I wish."

Bella smirks. It's both sinful and divine. "Me too. Alice has me hopped up on herbal tea. I'm dying here."

I realize I'm practically ogling her and try to concentrate on my coffee instead. I tap the side of my mug like I'm actually debating taking a sip. "I'm glad she has you in her life."

"And I'm glad you're her priest. I never thought church could be -" Bella's eyes flick over my chest then back to my face. "Like _you_."

I'm self-conscious all of a sudden then I remind myself _why _she's glad I'm Alice's priest. "She told you."

"She didn't have to. Some things you just see." She looks into my eyes and the rest of the coffee shop melts away. "And you know."

"I do."

We stare at each other like we're backstage and she's in my arms. Like we're holding hands in the back of a car. Like it's us against her family in the hospital waiting room.

"I knew from the first time I saw you," she murmurs then glances at her lap.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "Never mind."

Before I can stop myself, I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. Bella glances down at our entwined fingers, then at me.

"Tell me?" I practically beg.

"Oh my God, you're embarrassing me." She looks out the window at the passing cars.

I let go of her hand and remind myself of all the times I pushed when I should have left her alone. "I'm sorry."

She laughs a little under her breath. "Drink."

"Proposing that game was probably _not _my best moment."

Not as a priest, anyway. As Edward, it was pretty incredible.

"You've had plenty of fine moments lately. You've been taking care of my whole freakin' family. You're… awesome."

And she doesn't duck her head or look out the window. She's just smiling as she gazes across the table at me.

A waitress appears and the moment's over. I take the interruption as an opportunity to side-step the compliment I don't deserve.

"You look like you're feeling better." The last time I saw her she was crying, shaking, in pain. Today she seems good. Really good.

"Kissing a priest has that effect on me, I guess," Bella replies. The server's pen clatters onto the tabletop. Bella bites her bottom lip and peers out the window. I smile politely, but the waitress won't meet my eyes as she scoops up her things and leaves.

I remind myself there's no need to panic. No one knows us here. Our server probably thinks it's some kind of joke. Two weeks ago I would have thought so too.

I spin my coffee cup around on it's saucer, trying not to think of all the effects that kiss has had on my life. On my body, my mind, my dreams. Christ, those dreams.

And shit, here I am thinking about _all _of it. I rub my eyes then try to re-focus. "I thought maybe being around Alice was helping."

"You clearly underestimate your superpowers. Haven't you noticed you have this effect on people?"

"I don't generally make a habit of kissing parishioners, Bella."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Just one." Just her.

"One kiss ever? I find that hard to believe. After… _that_."

"I wasn't always a priest." It comes out before I can stop myself, and Bella rests her chin on her hand as she grins wickedly from across the table.

"I almost forgot about the unpriestly stuff," she says. "You promised me stories, you know."

She says the word _unpriestly_ and it makes me wish this was any other lunch, on any other day, with the girl who managed to blow up my life with a kiss. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Who was your first?"

My body stiffens. _Jesus_. I haven't talked about Kate Denali in roughly ten years.

"Never mind," Bella says, like she knows what I'm thinking. Like she wants to spare me some embarrassment.

"Pre-priesthood, pre-Fergie," I tell her like I owe her an answer but can't quite give it to her. My words feel raw and clumsy. I'm not used to talking about my past, but it's also refreshing to sit here and talk about things that don't have to do with God and sermons, or dioceses in Italy that need a new priest.

"If that's your idea of a juicy story, you're never getting a live performance, buddy."

"It was high school," I add. Like _that _somehow makes it juicier.

"Did your parents know? Mom nearly killed me."

"Um," Speaking of things I haven't talked about in ages. "They were dead by then."

"Shit, I'm sorry." This time she's the one to reach for my hand. She rubs little circles over the top with her thumb.

I don't pull away.

"It's okay." I relax, watching her trace patterns. Like with the tiniest movement she can ease years of pent up tension. "Jasper was a pretty decent replacement."

"You said you guys were close, I didn't realize you were family."

"Not many people do," I admit.

Bella's order arrives and it's like we just got busted telling secrets and holding hands.

She blushes as she taps her foot impatiently. I pray for the server to hurry as she arranges everything on the table. Once she's gone, Bella sits up a little straighter.

"You know every painful detail about my family, but I don't know anything about yours."

As I watch Bella add some cream to the coffee she ordered, it crosses my mind that I haven't ever spoken about my parents to a parishioner before. Not once.

"I don't have much of a family." I straighten up some. "After my parents died, I went to live with Jasper at St. Vincent's and..." I trail off, ashamed to admit what kind of kid showed up at the boys' home. Unable to put into words all of the reasons I ended up there in the first place.

I decide to try to take a sip of my coffee after all, but - bad idea. It's cold and my stomach lurches from the bitterness.

"Was it Bishop Whitlock, I mean Jasper who taught you about Beethoven?" she asks.

"No," I say, barely. Then I clear my throat and finish. "That was… pre-Jasper."

"Pre-priesthood, Pre-Fergie, Pre-Jasper. For a guy who's always asking people to confess, you're pretty evasive when you talk about yourself."

Bella's intuitive enough that I feel more exposed than I ever have with Jasper. But she's also quiet and kind, and it makes me want to tell her everything.

"It's just... Jasper turned my whole life around. At some point I remember thinking, whatever happened before was just unimportant. I made a choice to forget about it."

"Meanwhile my mom makes sure I remember everything like it happened yesterday."

"She loves you. She's just a little…"

"Catholic?" Bella asks.

I laugh. "I was gonna to say overbearing"

"And Jasper wasn't?" She seems genuinely surprised.

"I wouldn't call Jasper overbearing." I grin. Most of the time I thought he was a pushover. "He taught me there's more to religion than punishment and shame."

Bella traces imaginary circles on the tabletop. "It's kind of weird to me how a bishop is such a big deal in your life. Honestly, he kind of freaks me out."

"Does it freak you out that I'm…?"

Bella glances at my neck for just a second, like she can still see the shadow of my collar.

"It used to. And well, now... it's complicated." She picks at the bagel she ordered.

"Yeah. It certainly is." So complicated I keep forgetting why I'm supposed to be here. So complicated I'd much rather move to the other side of this table and kiss her again than tell her why I invited her to lunch.

"Complicated or not, I'm actually glad Mom made me go to confession last week." Bella peeks up at me. "Don't ever tell her that. Okay?"

I try to smile back. "Promise. And I'm glad you were there too."

"Why do you look so sad, though?"

I'm an open book when it comes to Bella. And as much as it hurts, it's time to address the elephant in the coffee shop. "Because... the truth is, regardless of how grateful I am that I've met you… I've been selfish."

"Excuse me?"

"Selfish."

She shakes her head and mumbles something under her breath before she sips at her coffee again.

"What?"

She looks at me.

"You're a stupid. Hot. Humble. Priest."

The laughter that rips through my chest is painful. "We can at least agree on the stupid part."

"Don't even try to fight me on hot."

Even though she has the annoying ability to make me smile, I remind myself I'm not here to get swept up in the fact that she thinks I'm hot. Or to tell her I think she's the sexiest woman I've ever met. Or how intoxicating that kiss was. Or how I've thought about it every waking moment since.

"Glad we're in agreement," she says, breaking the quiet. "Because when you smile like that, I just about die every time." Her cheeks go pink, but she doesn't look away.

"You're blushing."

"Jesus." She hides her face behind her hand.

"Don't." I reach across the table and pull it away. "It's beautiful."

Bella sighs. "So. Fucking. Complicated." She leans forward just a little, biting her lip again, still staring.

"Fuck," I mumble.

I'm making this worse, not better. And if I don't make things right _now_, I may never do it.

"Is it back on the table, then?" she asks. "_Fuck_?"

I close my eyes for just a moment, trying very desperately not to think about my filthy dreams, romantic fantasies, or all those ways I came up with to make her smile.

I look up at her again. I swallow. I try to breathe.

"I've been telling myself this whole time that you needed me. That I'm your only choice. That it was my obligation to be there for you. And it's given me all the reasons I needed to be close to you. But in reality… you didn't need me at all. And I shouldn't have -"

"Wait, what?"

"That kiss the other night…" I can't finish the thought, because honestly, I have no fucking idea what I'm doing or how to navigate these feelings I have for her.

"I can't stop thinking about it," she admits.

"It's why I wanted to see you today."

And then there it is, in the way her eyes dim, the way the smile fades from her lips. It's like she's heard my thoughts before I can say them out loud. She shakes her head.

"No."

"I just think," I take an unsteady breath. "No, I have to _believe _that..." Jesus, this is awful. And awkward. And completely fucked.

"Kissing is off the table too," she says.

"It's more than that, Bella."

"No dancing either?"

"I can't be your priest anymore."

Fuck. I said it. And I do not feel better for it. Not even a little bit. I'm desperate for a way to make this ache go away. To make my chest _not _feel like it's about to crack open.

"No, no, no! You're wrong. I need you. I'm sorry I kissed you, if that's what you need to hear."

She reaches for my hand, but I'm afraid I'll give in if I let her touch me again. So I pull away.

"Jasper's really good at what he does, Bella. He could counsel you. He can-"

"You expect me to confess to the guy who helped raise you about… kissing you?"

"If you don't feel comfortable with him, there's a parish close to your parents'. St. Luke's. The um… priest there is… he's…" Not my first choice. But it's better than leaving Bella with no one.

She shakes her head. "I just want you. I don't need those other guys. I shouldn't have gone to St. Mary's the other night. I'm sorry." It looks like Bella's fighting back tears.

"I let how I feel about you get the better of me."

I hear the breath catch in her throat. She leans across the table.

"How _do _you feel. About me?"

It's not a difficult question to answer.

"I …"

But words fail me. I can't possibly tell her without making this a hundred times worse.

"See, me too," she says quietly.

My head spins. The truth is, I've never wanted anything more than I wanted that kiss. Nothing.

"I guess it'll be less confusing if you're not my priest," Bella finally admits.

"You agree then?" I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed. Relieved we seem to be on the same page maybe. Disappointed I've let it come to this.

"I always mix up Father and Edward. Might seem easy on your end, but I can never keep you guys straight. So we're just friends? Uncomplicated friends?" She shrugs and sips her coffee. When she glances back at me, her smile looks strained.

Maybe not on the same page as much as I thought we were.

She reads my expression and the smile disappears altogether. "Oh."

"I don't think we can be friends either."

"You can't be serious… You're serious. _Fuck_."

"Bella -"

"If you're not my priest and you're not my friend, you really don't have a say in how much I swear."

"When I'm with you, I forget about the vows I took. I can't think about anything but _you_. My most significant relationship is supposed to be with God."

"Yeah, I get it. I'm no competition for God."

"No, Bella, this isn't about you. At all. This is about… _shit._"

She folds her arms across her chest. "And now you're letting me down with _that_ line?"

I run a hand through my hair and let out a sigh of utter frustration. "I'm saying this all wrong."

"Let's make it clear, then. You're cutting me loose as a parishioner. _And_ as a friend."

Nope. I've been saying it right. It just _feels _wrong.

"I'm sorry." I bow my head. "I take all the blame for this. I hate that I hurt you. I just hope you can forgive me."

"No. I won't contribute to your self-deprecation, _Father_. And I'll be honest, I'm only a little sorry. And I wouldn't want to take it back."

Using my words against me. Low blow. Not that I blame her. I should have known better. I should have thought before acting. I should have done a lot of things.

"For the record-" I take a deep breath. "I'm _not _sorry for the kiss. _Or _our friendship. Not one second of it."

Bella arches an eyebrow. "What exactly are you sorry for, then?"

"For failing as a priest."

"Well, that's just dumb. You're the best priest I know."

I'm the _only _priest she knows.

"Good priests don't kiss their parishioners."

Bella smirks as she starts to gather her purse. "If all good priests can kiss like you can, well, it's their parishioners' loss."

"You're not making this easy."

"Yeah, well this is hard."

Despite her anger, I see the hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. I can't help but shake my head at her.

"What? It's difficult, Edward. And very... _very_ hard."

"Not helping."

"Seriously. Has a priest ever broken up with you? It's kind of devastating."

"I get it."

Bella sighs. "I get it too… This. Right here." She points between the two of us. "Probably why we shouldn't be friends."

"You have other friends." It's a weak attempt at making her feel better, but it's true. She's always had other friends.

"Yeah, but you're one of a kind. Even if you are kinda hard… _headed_."

I can't help myself. "You give me some _stiff _competition."

The two of us laugh, but it sounds sad.

"Good one. I'm gonna miss this." Bella tries to smile but it doesn't reach her eyes.

Our server slips the check onto the table. Bella pulls out her wallet. I put my hand over hers, all too aware that it's probably for the last time.

"I got this."

She looks me steadily in the eye. "You could have. For sure."

xXxXx

Outside, Bella hesitates before she heads toward home.

"Listen, in all seriousness, thanks for being there for my sisters. And for me. Until I pushed you over the edge or whatever."

"Bella-"

"But I need one last thing."

"Anything." Except friendship. Except being her priest.

She smiles and it's breathtaking and heartbreaking. The wind kicks up and blows her hair. She bites her lip.

"Could I have a hug?"

My answer is reaching for her and pulling her against me like my life depends on it. She holds me tight. She breathes me in. Her hands fist in my hair.

I press my face into the crook of her neck, my lips rest against her skin. It's so warm. Impossibly soft.

I don't realize I'm kissing her until she sighs, relaxing into me.

Her neck tilts. I kiss her shoulder.

And then I'm cupping her face, holding her carefully. Lost in her eyes.

Without another thought in my mind, except how good it feels to hold her like this, my lips press against hers and she hums.

Her hands slip around my waist. Under my tee. Her fingers slide up my back.

Our lips part. I clutch at her hips, pulling her body roughly against mine. Everything inside me wants more. Of her. Of this.

Bella's breath hitches.

"Fuck."

I'm not sure which of us said it, but the word vibrates between us.

I don't pull away from her. I couldn't if I wanted to. But I can't let it continue either.

Instead we stand there, foreheads touching, eyes down. Breathless.

It's Bella who finally speaks. It's just a word. Just a whisper. Just a thought.

"Thanks."

Before she finally leaves.

I watch her go as I dig into my pocket. She turns a corner without looking back as I light a cigarette and take a drag.

I squint up at God as I exhale.

Then point to Him. "Me and you are gonna talk later."

Because for a conversation that was supposed to be the right thing to do, watching Bella walk away feels completely wrong.

* * *

**A/N: **_**HOLLA **_**to Sue for doubling down as not only a beta-beautifier, but a line enhancer this week! To ChrisAnn for giving us her blessed A-OK. And to all our parishioners. I mean readers… including our newest! Welcome to the fold! We'll meet you in Hell.**

**Srsly, though, THANKS to every single FB shout out for this story. And to CiaraShayee for rec'ing us on her latest fic **_**Waves of Hope**_ **last week!**

**And YO! Not that you don't already know this, but Iambeagle started a new fic! **_**Don't Delete the Kisses**_ **\- tattooed up, Instagram stalking Edward (but in a good way). COME ON.**

**ALSO… um… Scotch, Gin & the New Girl - update after 11 years? A corona miracle!**


	20. Chapter 19 Laity

**Chapter 19. Laity **

**Bella**

* * *

Emmett and Rose's place is a little too close to my parents' for comfort, but Emmett promised Mom wouldn't be by until later tonight and I haven't seen Rose since that first night in the hospital. I might be the bad sister, but I try not to be a total shit.

Even when I feel totally shitty.

And confused.

And ridiculously aroused.

All at once.

Not to mention, I still haven't had a drink.

Yeah, things have taken a turn in my life. I'm still fucked. Just sober.

I can't say it's much of an improvement.

"Auntie Bella!" my littlest niece screams as she runs headlong into my knees and throws her arms around me. Her golden curls remind me of Rose when we were kids.

I pull the grubby little girl into my arms, grateful for every hug I can get these days. When I can get it.

I might be holding her a little too close as I push open the front door. My niece wriggles until I let her down and then she knocks over a stack of folded laundry as she takes off. The clothes topple onto Grandma, who's sound asleep on a recliner in the corner. Grandma gives a little snore, but manages to nap through it all.

"Emmett, I told you he needs a bath!" Mrs. McCarty calls out from the kitchen as Emmett races past, giving my nephew an airplane ride through the chaos.

"Hey, Bell," my brother-in-law says as his plane circles around me. Then he throws the filthy kid into my arms. "Your turn with Liam. Gotta get a bath going."

"More!" the little kid yells in my face, then flings his arms out to his sides like airplane wings and hits me in the nose. His hand smells… like tuna fish.

I hold my breath as I hold him at arm's length. "Emmett, I don't think -" but my brother-in-law's already running up the stairs.

"Can someone take Rose a water?" Mrs. McCarty calls out. She's clearly the general in charge today.

"Want to go to Great Grandma?" I ask.

"No, no, no!" Liam shouts and wriggles, and attempts to fly on his own as I deposit him on his belly in Grandma's lap, startling her awake.

I think the laundry in her lap is gonna need another wash cycle.

"Fish for lunch?" Grandma asks, wrinkling her nose.

I don't even say sorry. I'm not.

xXxXx

I jog up the stairs with a water bottle, happy to _almost _leave the kid-centered mess behind. There are still toys all along the stairs and scattered throughout the hallway. At least sober I'm less likely to trip.

I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been driven to drink if I grew up in Rose and Emmett's house. It's definitely nutty, but the air's lighter. It's a mess, but no one cares. And no one cares whose fault it is.

Another nephew wanders out of Rose and Emmett's bedroom wearing just his underwear. Emmett scoops him up as he heads off down the hall.

"Rosie's inside, Bell. Go on in. Her doc wants her to stay in bed." He nods toward the bedroom and I push open the door.

"Hey, Rose! I brought you up some wa- … whoa, whoa, whoa!"

I cover my eyes and spin around, turning my back on my big sister.

"Bella! I wasn't sure you were going to come," Rose calls from the bed where she's just sitting around in the middle of the day completely topless.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in." I walk backward slowly, reaching behind my back to try to find the nightstand where I can set down the water bottle. "I can just-" and I stumble over Barbie's dream house and land on the bed.

Rose laughs. It sounds like bells tinkling. Even her laughter is princess-like and good. It's effortless for her, and it's pissed me off since we were little. "It's okay, Bella."

I glance over my shoulder. She's still on display. "I think you forgot your top?"

"Skin on skin is best for preemies, not to mention I'm leaking all over the place."

"Jesus, Rose."

"Wait until you're a mom."

If I had any vague daydreams about it before, they've all vanished. "I'd like to think I'd…" I cough. "Wear clothes?"

Rose just laughs. "Wanna hold him?"

"Do I need to look at your boobs to make that happen? Which are huge, by the way." And kinda perfect. No surprise there. But she's my sister, so _ew_.

"I'll try to cover up," she says, still laughing. "Out of all of us, I didn't think you'd be the prude."

When I turn around again, Rose is trying to cover herself with one of her arms and she's juggling the littlest baby I've ever seen in the other. I immediately feel guilty. If my sister needs to flash me, my sister needs to flash me.

"Do I need to get topless to hold him?" The squirmy little pink thing looks cute, but Emmett's never seen the girls and I'd like to keep it that way.

"Don't be an idiot, Bella, just take him. I need to pee. And change my pad."

"Oh my God. TMI, Rose. TMI!"

She gives up on covering herself as she swaddles my nephew, cooing and making faces the whole time. "Hello little man. There's my little Paddy."

"Not Paddy!" Emmett pops his head into the bedroom. "It's Patrick. Or Pat. Until he's a moody teenager and decides he's going by Edward just to piss us off."

"Edward?" I ask as Rose hands me the tiny tot.

"Didn't Alice tell you? He's Patrick after Emmett's great grandfather. And his middle name is Edward after Father. I still can't believe he was there to pray with us that night."

My eyes sting as I bobble the little baby, trying to position him in my arms. It's not fair that Rose gets Edward as a priest and I don't, but I brought it on myself.

I guess it was inevitable Father Edward would push me away. I'm hardly Catholic and I never hid it from him. I didn't expect I'd care. I never imagined it would hurt like someone tore a hole through my chest.

"You gotta get his head," Emmett explains to me as he helps me out, propping my arms just so. "Babies are like footballs, but with a neck."

Em gazes down at his son like he's completely transfixed. It's hard to imagine he can still love a new baby this much with four other kids. The little thing weighs about as much as a bag of chips and looks up at me with big, black eyes. He makes a little sucking motion with his mouth.

"Already making duck faces for Instagram, aren't you?" I say in the silliest voice that's ever come from my mouth.

Emmett helps Rose out of the bed and I start bouncing around the room. I don't know why.

"You've got a good name, buddy. Your daddy's right, Paddy sounds silly. Eddie on the other hand? Can I call you Eddie?"

Eddie smacks his lips. I think he's into it.

I swing him in a circle as I bounce. I touch the tip of his nose. I kiss his forehead.

"I think it's best to warn you, Eddie, you were born into a nutty family. Your mom and dad are okay, but there's a good chance you'll be trampled to death by your brothers and sisters before you make it to a year."

Eddie yawns, unimpressed. It's adorable.

"Your brother reeks of tuna."

Eddie wriggles in his wrap.

"Your Aunt Alice is a goddamned saint. You can always trust her, okay?"

Eddie's eyelids look heavy. Like he's having a hard time keeping them open. I go from bouncing to swinging and hum under my breath.

Yeah, it's my sexy hymn. Eddie's not complaining.

"And when you fuck up, you come to me, kiddo. Okay?" I tell him. "I know a thing or two about sin. I'll never judge." I look up to see Mom standing in the doorway and freeze.

She folds her coat neatly and places it on a heap of clothes covering a rocker in the corner. "You shouldn't swear in front of children."

"Eddie's never going to remember this. Also hi, Mom. How are you?"

Her forehead wrinkles. "His name is Patrick, Isabella."

I ignore Mom and turn my back to her. He'll always be Eddie to me.

"Isabella," Mom says. _Christ_. Ignoring her isn't going to be an option.

"Yeah, Mom?" I swing little Eddie in a circle so I don't have to look at her directly.

"Have you seen your sister?"

I've seen more of my sister today than I bargained for. "She's in the bathroom."

"Alice?" she asks. Mom looks like she's about to sprint across the bedroom and throw open the bathroom door.

I sigh. Alice isn't ready to talk to my parents and I can't blame her.

So I stop swinging my nephew and face my mother. "Alice isn't here. But she's fine."

"You've seen her?"

"I'm staying with her, I guess. For now."

And I watch Mom's sudden hope drain away and replace itself with simmering anger. I've corrupted her baby. If Alice ever comes out to my parents, I'm sure it's going to be _my_ fault she's gay.

Rose lumbers into the bedroom. Somewhere along the way she lost her sleep pants and is only wearing a pair of granny panties. "Hey, Mom," she huffs.

"Rosalie? Clothing!" I think Mom's about to faint.

Rose chuckles as she plucks little Eddie out of my arms and squishes his face up against one of her boobs. Mom averts her eyes. My nipples ache as I watch my nephew clamp down.

Rose cackles as she looks between me and Mom. "I see where you get your modesty, Bell."

Emmett emerges from the bathroom with a big plastic bag. I do not want to know what's inside. In fact, I pretend I never saw it. He glances between Rose, Mom, and me and he hightails it out of there without looking back. As he should. Mom was not supposed to be here yet.

"You look good," Mom says as she gives Rose a quick once over, then averts her eyes again. "The baby eating enough?"

"Yep. He's a little monster. Have you seen my nipples? They're practically raw." She says it all in baby talk as she gazes down at Eddie. She actually pinches a free nipple and holds it out for Mom and I to see.

I shudder. "Maybe I should just…"

Rose grabs my hand to keep me from making a break for it. I think her fingers are damp with breast milk. _Blech_.

"We'll have to talk about this later, Mom. I don't want to offend Bella's delicate sensibilities."

"If Isabella has somewhere she needs to be…"

"Yeah," I agree. "Maybe I should clear out."

Rose's face falls. "You just got here. Can't you stay a little while longer?"

I check my phone. I've got to be at Randazzo's in an hour. It's not even enough time to get a drink, really. I glance at Mom, trying to figure out how much damage she can inflict on my psyche in thirty minutes.

"As long as we're civil," I say, staring Mom down. "For Rose and Eddie's sake."

"You're one to talk," Mom replies.

"Eddie?" Rose asks me.

I can't help but smirk. I also can't keep up this staring contest with Mom and stay calm. So I set to work with the pile of clothes on the rocker. Eddie might want to rock every now and then.

Once I'm out of the way, Mom perches on the edge of the bed. "I thank God you're both okay." She caresses little Eddie's head.

Rose gazes at the infant in her arms and smiles bravely. "The doctor says I'll probably have blood pressure issues if I get pregnant again. It could be even worse next time."

"Not if there isn't a next time," I suggest. Sometimes logic is lost on Catholics.

Rose sighs in exasperation.

"It's as easy as a pill, Rosalie. It's like a miracle. Probably a God-given one - if you believe in that kind of thing."

Of course, _I _don't believe in that kind of thing even though I've been praying on the regular lately. It's no biggie. It has nothing to do with a certain priest. Or a spiritual awakening. Also, my nephew just looks like an Eddie.

"There's no need for pills," Mom says. "There are ways around it."

Rosalie's blue eyes flash. "We tried those ways, Mom. Have you met Patrick?"

"Have you thought about an IUD?" I ask.

Mom scowls. "I don't think the Pope would-"

"Jesus, Mom! The Pope can't get pregnant, okay? And I don't think he'd want Rosalie dead, so-"

"Isabella!" Mom's gone from annoyed to angry. I should have known. She takes all criticism of the Pope personally.

"Em's mom said the church might be okay with birth control. As long as it's for medical reasons."

"Hmmm," Mom hums. "We should ask the Father."

I can't help but laugh out loud. "Yes, please ask Father Edward about your birth control options, Rose. Seems like a sound idea. I'm sure he's an expert."

I make a mental note to text Rose a link to the nearest Planned Parenthood. If Father has a problem with it, he can come talk to me.

And then I'll get to see him again. And maybe steal another kiss. Is it unlikely? _Maybe_. But I got the man to make out with me right after we broke up as friends, so…

"How's Ang?" Rose asks Mom, changing the subject.

"Final alterations were today," Mom replies. "I can't believe it's just a week away."

And I'm pretty sure Mom's had a stroke. Rose and I exchange a meaningful glance.

"Final alterations?" Rose asks. "I thought -"

"The wedding's off," I finish for Rose who's been rendered momentarily speechless. It looks like Eddie's latched onto her with the jaws of life or something.

"There's no way your father was going to let Ben get away with that," she says and folds her hands in her lap. It's Mom's way of daring us to question her.

Rose, always the good kid, presses her lips together and concentrates on little Eddie.

I, on the other hand, ignore Mom's silent cues.

"Dad's not going to let him get away with which part, exactly?" I ask. "The part where Ben tried to get me into bed? Or the part where he ditched his pregnant fiancé?"

Mom's face turns red and she narrows her eyes. "Your father is cleaning up your mess, young lady."

I know without a doubt there's no way Dad can fix Ben. And I don't think Dad would want to if he knew the whole story. Unfortunately, it seems like Mom's kept all information about Ben away from Dad ever since she caught the two of us naked and high in their bed. And since Dad' s pretty much the only parent willing to stick up for me, I haven't been eager to fill him in.

"Listen, Mom," Rose says quietly as she gazes down at Patrick. "Em and I were talking. I don't think it's as cut and dry as you-"

"Emmett _loves_ Benjamin," Mom interrupts. Like if she says it with enough enthusiasm she can make it true.

Rose looks out the window. I catch her rolling her eyes. "Maybe you should leave it to Angela and Ben to work out?" she suggests.

"Your sister needs our help right now."

"Always has. Always will," Rose mutters.

I'm not sure Mom heard. I'm not sure I heard either.

Except I haven't had a drink for days. So I think _maybe_ this is real. I think Rose is agreeing with me right in front of my eyes.

"So the wedding's just... _on_ again?" I ask Mom. "Like nothing ever happened?"

She twists her hands in her lap. "Nearly. There's the issue with Father."

"Edward?" I ask a little too loud. Eddie startles in Rose's arms. I feel my sister's big, blue eyes try to bore a hole in the side of my head.

"Angela and Ben have to smooth things over with Father Edward. He said he won't marry them otherwise."

My chest aches. My palms are sweaty. My eyes feel wet.

Stupid, heartbreaking, ethical priest.

Angela doesn't deserve him. I just wish I did.

xXxXx

I'm not surprised Jake asked to meet at Randazzo's. This is supposed to be a date and Jake's not subtle. He's sweet. And as far as first date spots in Sheepshead Bay go, this is better than most.

After I saw Father kneeling next to Rose's bed the other night, it seemed like I really needed to bite the bullet and lust after someone who hadn't made an eternal pact with the Lord.

Jake hasn't made any such pact that I'm aware of. _And _he's perfect. _And _he chose the perfect moment during all of this to ask me out.

I tried my best to hold onto that feeling. I really did.

Until this morning when I saw Edward again and held his hand again. Until Edward broke up with me. And kissed me. It happened in that order.

_I know._

None of this makes any sense.

I need a fucking drink already. I also needed to get out of Rose's house and away from Mom's scrutiny, so I'm early for my date... with Jake. _Shit_. Why did I ever think this was a good idea?

I order a pint of Budweiser at the bar while I wait. It's the best the restaurant's got and I'm desperate.

Nevertheless, I find myself smiling at the pale, tasteless beverage.

It reminds me of the first time Father Edward priested out with a case of Miller High Life. I take a picture and I'm about to text it to him when I remember all over again he's not my priest... or my friend. He made it clear we're nothing to each other anymore.

Right before he kissed me and took my breath away.

_Dear God, it should be a sin for a man to kiss as well as Father Edward and still take a vow of celibacy. Please look into this? Thanks. Bella_

I take a sip of the Bud and grimace, but I push through the feeling. I try to convince myself the alcohol will make it better. Nevertheless, the week ahead feels bleak and confusing as I slip into a red pleather booth at the back of the restaurant.

"What's wrong?" Jake asks, sliding into the booth across from me. His khakis are pressed. His shirt is as white as his teeth. _Very_ white.

He leans across the booth toward me and his eyes radiate concern.

I shrug. "Bud's not my favorite, I guess."

Jake bites his bottom lip. "I know." He slides a flask across the tabletop. "I almost tried to change our plans after I called about the bar menu. But they've got the best calamari and a view of the water, so I got your scotch."

"Aw, Jake."

"The good stuff. And before you object, it's not a payment or a bribe or whatever. It's 'cause I like you. It's 'cause you said yes."

He smiles and it stretches from ear to ear, like he won a prize just being here with me.

I sip at the beer and spin the flask where it sits. "You're really sweet."

Jake's face falls just a little, shifting from overjoyed to brave. "You know what else is sweet?" he asks. "Randazzo's mussels marinara. Wanna find something to order?" He ducks behind a big leather-bound menu.

I sigh. "I'm sorry, Jake."

Jake lowers the menu enough for me to see his glittering black eyes. "You don't have anything to apologize for. Unless you ate all their mussels while you were waiting."

I can't help but giggle. "Shellfish allergy. So no."

"Beautiful _and_ willing to let me eat all the mussels? Marry me?"

My cheeks flame and I hide behind the pint glass and take a long drink. I have an idea.

"What do you think of drinking games?" I wonder, spinning the flask again, a little faster this time.

"Like quarters?" he asks.

"Something even better."

xXxXx

"And then Alice tackled Paul, pinned him to the ground, spit in his face, and told him her big sister Bella would whoop his ass. I mean, he was twice her size, and here she was tackling him. _She _clearly coulda' kicked his ass, but you were her hero. The one she thought would save her."

"Drink," I mumble, my face on fire. I think I've been blushing through the entire meal. Jake holds his pint glass up in the air before he takes a big, long swig of bad beer. We've already worked our way through the scotch playing a modified version of the game Edward and I perfected.

I still have to drink every time I say I'm sorry.

Jake has to drink every time he says something so sweet I want to die. I'm surprised he's still upright. The more Jake drinks, the sweeter he gets.

I shake my head. "Alice is so much fiercer than she knows."

"Truth," Jake says. "Sister Mary Margaret was there for the whole thing. Picked Alice up by the back of her neck. She went kicking and screaming the whole way. Kicked the Sister in the gut, even. You don't want to interfere with Alice Swan's ideas of right and wrong."

I shrug. "Well, she's always right, so…"

"You think so?" Jake asks. There's a strange tinge of hope in his voice.

"Please. She's the only Swan whose opinion I trust. Including my own."

Jake smiles then takes a long swig of his beer. His eyes twinkle, but it's like he can't look directly at me all of the sudden.

"What?" I ask.

Jake puts his beer on the table. He folds his hands in front of him. "Was she right when she told me I should ask you out last week?"

I can't look Jake in the eye, so I fiddle with the condensation on my pint glass. "She was definitely right. But I'm all wrong, Jake."

It's like someone lets all the life out of the guy across from me. I practically watch him deflate before my eyes.

I reach for his hands. They're solid and warm, but that's it. It's nothing like holding Edward's hands. I look into Jake's eyes. Nope, I don't want to kiss him. Not even a little.

"You're perfect, Jake. Really. I should like you. I should freakin' love you, for God's sake."

He shakes his head and pulls his hands away from mine. It was so easy for him to do, it's like proof this is all wrong. He runs a hand through his hair. "It's cool. I get it." He takes a long sip of his beer.

"I don't think you do. I'm a mess."

He smiles at me like he's in physical pain. "You're a rock star, and I'm a kid from Sheepshead Bay."

I kick Jake under the table. "I'm a kid from Sheepshead Bay too, you idiot."

I'm just in love with my priest.

Wait. _What?_

"I'm…" _Fuck._ Edward's the best man I know. He cares for everyone in my family.

"Bell, what's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost. You know, they actually say this place is haunted. This fisherman capsized off the coast on his way back from-"

I shake my head as I hold up a finger to shush him.

I can't stop thinking about my priest. My friend. The guy I made out with. Whatever he is or isn't. Because he can say whatever he wants, but he's still something to me, something I can't just forget about.

And those kisses. Those two fucking kisses. Christ. When I think about them…

"I can't breathe."

Jake jumps up from his seat. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He looks like he wants to lunge at me and run in the opposite direction at the same time.

"What's your problem?" I ask as I slide away from him toward the opposite end of the booth.

"You just told me you couldn't breathe. Should I call someone? Get a server?" he asks, looking around frantically.

Fuck. I don't know what I'm saying out loud or what I'm thinking to myself anymore.

The only thing I know is I am definitely in love with my priest.

Okay. Maybe I know two things as I look up at Jake who seems like he's ready to fight everyone in Randazzo's if it means I'll be able to breathe again. I also know I need to end this date. It's not happening.

"I can breathe, Jake. Promise."

He sighs in relief. He sits, but he eyes me warily like he's not sure I'm telling the truth.

"But there's someone else," I admit. "And if it wasn't for him I'd have gone for it with you. I totally would have. Alice wasn't wrong. She just doesn't know about this other guy."

Jake's smile is kind. He nods his head. "I was too late."

"I'm still an idiot. It's never gonna work out with _him_."

Because he's a priest.

"Has he seen you, Bell? Who the heck's gonna turn you down?"

A priest.

"He's… _taken_?" I try to explain.

"You don't sound so sure."

"No, I'm sure. He's as taken as taken can be."

Jake picks at his food. "A married guy? Really?"

I shake my head.

Jake's laughter booms through the dining room.

"How is this funny?"

"If he's not married, he's not taken."

"Believe me, he's totally taken."

Jake puts down his fork, sits back, and folds his arms over his chest. "Who are you?"

"Um?"

He narrows his eyes.

"You're Bella, right? Bella Swan?"

"You know who I am, you dork. We grew up together. You asked me out."

"Well, the Bella Swan I know would go for what she wants. Doesn't take no for an answer. Never has. Never will. It's why she's such a badass. Why she scares me as much as she makes me…"

Jake drowns the last part of his speech in his beer and looks out over the water.

"This is different," I try to explain.

He looks at me. His eyes are clear - big and black. Like he's willing to show me how he feels and I can't look away. I almost wish I liked him. It would be so much easier.

"It's different because you care," he tells me. "It's scary. But you've gotta go for it, Bella. You won't be able to live with yourself if you don't."

* * *

**A/N: Quarantine's changed us all, right? Some:**

**A) wear sleep pants all day. **

**B) ****start drinking before 5.**

**C) ****fall in love with Jake in a fanfic and vow to let him live.**

**D) ****all of the above**

**Any guesses where Jo and I fall? **

**Thanks so much to SueBee and ChrisAnn for editing our madness. To the ladies on facebook for keeping us smiling. And to everyone who takes the time to leave a review. **

**We know this past week was like seven years long, so look for another update this Friday. **


	21. Chapter 20 Eucharist

**Chapter 20. Eucharist**

**Father Edward**

Since day one at St. Mary's, I've found it comfortable here. Effortless. Like I was meant for this place. In its own little corner of the world, yet still connected to everything. It was so easy to slip into the role of guiding this small, close-knit flock of God's people.

This morning I feel constrained.

My mind is constantly preoccupied.

My nerves won't settle.

My lungs are tight. Fuck. It's warm in here.

And as the processional begins, on top of it all, I fight a yawn.

I've been up since before dawn. Tossed and turned for hours before that. Now I can't seem to get my brain to string a solid idea together for today's homily.

It's not just today, though. It's not just Mass looming before me like some form of punishment for my holy crimes. It's not even St. Mary's in particular.

It's Bella.

I haven't thought about anything but her since I left the coffee shop yesterday.

Since kissing her for a second time.

Since holding her like I couldn't get enough of her.

And wanting so much more than what I gave her.

To make matters worse, I can't text her. Or go to her. Either would just confuse the both of us.

It's better this way, I try to convince myself for the millionth time since yesterday.

Then I remind myself I have to trust that God has a plan. And that maybe, somehow, at some point, he'll share that fucking plan with me.

For now, though, I just need to get through this morning.

My mind wanders as I walk down the aisle. The entire church is singing Faith of our Fathers, but the only hymn I seem to want to think about lately is the one Bella wrote.

I can't get her voice out of my head. Or my dreams. It makes me smile as I approach the pulpit.

I try to compose myself as I face my parish. And it almost works - until I see her.

She's sitting on the aisle, more than half way back with Alice next to her. It's about as far away from the Swans' usual pew as she can get.

The room spins for a split second and I have to hold onto the lectern for balance.

I didn't think she'd be here and I look down at my notes because I can't possibly hold eye contact with her today.

Shit. Did I forget how to start Sunday mass?

I clear my throat and find something to look at towards the back of the sanctuary.

"Lord have mercy," I start, and when the congregation chants it back, Bella's the only one I hear.

I lose my voice a couple times. She never does. Not once. And every time I hear her chant, goosebumps prick at the back of my neck. It's a good thing I've got the pulpit in front of me, because fuck if I know I could stand on my own without it.

After the last bit of the response, I whisper another, "Lord have mercy." Because I need it more than ever.

My will crumbles and my eyes flick in Bella's direction. She's staring right at me. Our eyes lock. I'm pretty sure one side of her mouth quirks up into a smile. I'm definitely sure she's blushing.

Like she did inside the coffee shop.

Right before we left.

And kissed.

Fuck.

No. I can't look at her. God help me, I want to. But I can't. If I do, my world will crack open and spill out for the entire congregation to see.

xXxXx

The majority of mass is a blur. The next thing I know, I'm standing at the pulpit again.

I stare down at the Gospel in front of me and I start reading the passage from the Revised Common Lectionary. At first the words seem wooden, generic noises that have been repeated over years and years of Catholic teachings. But then, suddenly, they come to life.

_"For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted."_

I glance at the Swans in their pew. I don't look for Bella. I can't. But the Swans should. They brought her to tears the other night. They humbled her so much they made her feel like she couldn't be fixed.

Mrs. Swan, who's usually very interested in what I have to say, is not quite meeting my eyes this morning.

I'm surprised to see Ben beside Angela, and I stare a little too long.

Then I manage to pull my thoughts away from becoming judge and jury, and I focus on the homily I'm about to give. "This is the Gospel of the Lord."

"According to you, Lord Jesus Christ," the congregation replies.

It reminds me that this is Jesus' truth, not mine. Suddenly it's clear what I'm supposed to say today.

As everyone sits, I clap my hands together with renewed purpose.

"As usual, God doesn't mince words, right?" There's a small ripple of murmurs. Some heads nod.

"But what does it mean, really?"

People sit up straighter, but they know it's rhetorical. I wait, though, letting them think it over a little on their own.

"Answer this question for me." I pause. "Not out loud." I give a wink. People laugh.

"How many good deeds have you done this week?"

I glance around. Avoiding Bella. People exchange looks. They smile. They nod. They look proud of themselves. Because they know exactly how many good deeds they've done.

"Now answer this one," I tell them with a slightly more serious tone. "How often did you shine the spotlight on someone who hasn't done good deeds?" Another pause. "Or maybe the better question is, someone _you_ thought hadn't?"

A pin could drop this time. Not a mutter is heard throughout the entire building.

"Easy to do, right?" I shrug. "I mean, who isn't guilty of pointing a finger once in a while?" I tell them like I'm telling a secret only the two-hundred and fifty or so of us share.

"We know what we see when we look at others. But what does Christ see? Sinners? Yeah. In need of a savior? _Hell yeah_."

There's a few gasps, but I ignore them.

"But if that's all he saw, he'd just look at us with pity."

I try to lock eyes with Mrs. Swan this time. I need her to hear this. "He sees something more in us," I tell her. "_He_ sees something lovable. In fact, He sees the image of God in each and every one of us." I point around at the congregation.

"You know why we don't? Because our own sins obscure the image of God in others."

I say it and I'm stunned into silence for a minute. Because even as I try very desperately not to look at the one person who'd understand this above all, I understand, too. That it's not just about judging others.

"The same goes for pointing a finger at yourself." I laugh. "I'm guilty. I've done it about a hundred times since I walked up the aisle to the altar this morning." I wave at the doors in the back.

"We're taught, _endlessly_, to regard others with God's grace. But what we need to remember is to regard _ourselves_ with that same grace. Because maybe… just maybe, our own sins are obscuring our ability to see God's divine goodness in ourselves."

I look out at the same faces I see every week. I notice, down in the front, Angela taking Ben's free hand and smiling up at him with forgiveness. He seems fascinated with something on his phone. Charlie whispers something into Renee's ear.

I'm dying to look at Bella, to see if she's hearing me. If she's really hearing me. Because I've been repeating these words for years, but it's like I'm hearing them for the first time.

I take a long, cleansing breath as I come to the end of my rant… otherwise known as a homily.

"I'm gonna leave you with some advice from John. He says, any that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone."

Then I find Renee, down in front, who's finally paying attention. I try not to make this about her.

"Put down your stones, people. Don't aim them at others. Don't aim them at yourself. That's not our call to make." I smile. "And as Peter would say, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins."

I make a point not to look at Bella before I take my seat again.

Jasper catches my attention and he gives me an approving nod.

I can't help but grin. I hadn't expected to feel the high of coming off a good homily or to feel lighter than I did when I got here today.

The remainder of the mass is a whirlwind of prayers and offerings, chants and blessings. And it feels good again. I sing Lamb of God with gusto. I have new energy, up to and including when Jasper offers me Holy Communion.

I know I've made mistakes this past week, but I also know I'm made in God's image and that it's going to be okay. So when I walk toward the front of the congregation to offer communion, I seek Bella out for the first time since mass began.

She's not in her pew and I search the congregation. I assume she's left.

Until I finally find her.

Standing in line.

It doesn't make sense. She doesn't believe in any of this. She said so herself. And after yesterday… after we kissed...

Shit.

I smile and bless each parishioner, trying not to think about where Bella might be. My heart speeds up a little after each of them, knowing she's closing in. Step by step.

And when she's finally standing right in front of me, looking up at me with those huge brown eyes, Bella looks... reverent.

Determined.

Fucking beautiful.

Her eyes are glued to mine and she narrows them with intent, like she's finally forced me to see her. Only she doesn't know that I have seen her. I've seen her every moment of every day since the first time we met.

Since I told her we could be friends. And then told her we couldn't.

Since I told her I couldn't be her priest.

Yet here she is. Defying me. Or God.

Probably both of us.

It's fucking brilliant.

And she waits. And waits. And I try to remember what I'm supposed to say.

"Body of Christ," I manage to whisper. Or at least I think I do.

I pluck a wafer from the dish, nerves dictating my every move.

But instead of putting her hands out to take it from me, she smiles - just before she parts her glistening lips.

Christ.

Those fucking lips.

That I kissed.

In the confessional. At the coffee shop. And all the other places I've fantasized about kissing her flit through my mind.

And I want nothing more than to kiss her again.

Instead, I'm placing a wafer on her tongue and watching as she takes it between her lips. It's like someone else is doing it. Certainly not me. Not until I feel those lips close over the tip of my finger.

And then I know it's me. And Bella. In front of the congregation. In front of God.

_Jesus._ Fucking help me.

Bella refuses to look away when she whispers, "Amen."

Her eyebrow lifts, just slightly. Enough for me to notice. Not enough for anyone else. She moves over to Jasper and waits to drink from the chalice he offers.

I imagine myself telling her, drink. And as she takes a sip, her eyes are on me, almost like she heard me think it.

When she's done, she licks her lips. She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

Fuck.

"The blood of Christ," Jasper says.

"Amen," Bella responds with one last look of longing in my direction.

Then she walks away.

She doesn't return to her seat for final prayer or announcements. She's done what she came here to do.

I've felt the weight of every choice I've made this week in her eyes. At the same time I feel God's eternal forgiveness.

Fuck.

xXxXx

It's a quiet Monday afternoon, as far as confessions go. Only Mrs. Uley has taken the time to stop by and tell me how she skipped laundry for three days straight and then lied to her family about why she did it.

Usually I'd take this downtime to pray. Instead, I annoy myself, reliving everything from this past week, over, and over, and over again. I relive the regret, the kisses, the yearning, and the prayers about it all, struggling to come to grips with how I feel.

It's just one big circle of bullshit.

So when I hear the door of the confessional open, I sit up and try to focus. At least I can try to help others because I'm certainly not helping myself.

I wait.

They clear their throat.

I think I recognize the voice, but I've been imagining I hear Bella wherever I go for the past day and a half, so it's probably just hope. It couldn't be -

"Forgive me, Father."

Her voice is clear. It practically rings through the confessional.

"Bella…" Her name is a little more than a whisper as it leaves my lips. The only part of my body that's moving is my heart, beating a million miles a minute.

"It's been four days since my last confession. And the last time I was here I screwed up big time."

The silence between us after that is deafening.

I wait while my chest lights on fire.

"No comment from the peanut gallery?" she asks.

What is she doing here?

Bella clears her throat again. "Anyway, today I'm here to try to do it right. I have a lot to confess. I've been making lists." I hear paper crinkling on her side. "But I looked at them this morning and they're all just words. Pride, lust, lying… Whatev, you know?"

I do know. I know more than she could imagine.

"I don't give a fu… _fig_ about that old school shit. I want to confess… to you… about my real, actual sins that matter to me. And you. Probably?"

Normally I'd make a sarcastic comment. Or find some other way to make her feel more comfortable in an uncomfortable situation. But she doesn't seem uncomfortable. And this situation is anything but normal.

I'm left with nothing to say.

"About how I screwed up the other night - one of the things I do wrong is I try to bend people to my will. And I did that with you and with confession at nine o'clock on a Thursday. I'm self-centered that way. And I'm sorry about it. I'll try to do better. In general. Not necessarily with you. You're not my priest anymore."

She pauses. I remind myself I need to breathe. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Again. I'm not sure if I should let her finish. Or tell her that she's wrong. That I was wrong. To beg her forgiveness.

"And when I first came here the other week I thought this was stupid. I made fun of you. I'm sorry. Sometimes I make fun of things when I'm angry. Or scared."

I see her shadow move as she shifts. I start to reach for it then pull my hand back. It's not the same as touching her.

Do I stay put? Do I go to her? That's probably a bad idea considering what happened last time.

I'm debating it all when she begins again.

"And I'm manipulative as fu…" She laughs a little. I smile. "Off the table," she whispers. "So manipulative it's not even funny. I pushed you because I like you. And then I took advantage of you."

"Y-"

"And all of that's no biggie. I mean to me, anyway. I don't know about God. Who totally isn't real, so whatever."

I start to correct her but think better of it as she continues.

"But there are some things that are harder for me to admit. But fuck it, you know? Sorry about saying fuck. How exactly are you supposed to say everything that's on your mind if you have to censor out the fucks, Edward? I mean Father? Do you mind if I say fuck every now and then?"

And she waits as I bite my lip, trying not to laugh out loud at the number of fucks she just let spill out into this confessional.

_Dear God..._

"Fine. Listen, I have a problem with sex. I like it. I always have. That's not the problem. If you don't enjoy sex, well that's a problem. But I think I use sex to my advantage. And sometimes it gets me in trouble. It almost ruined my first big break, you know? Maybe I ruined my sister's marriage - although I think it was doomed from the start, but whatever… I just didn't want it to get you in trouble. So I'm sorry if I did - get you in trouble. I'll try to do better with sex too."

If this was even a few nights ago, I'd say, drink. But it's not, so I'm stumped on exactly how to respond to any of this.

"Yeah, I figured there wasn't much you could say. I mean, you made it clear you're not even my priest. But still, as my former friend I thought you should know I'm sorry. Maybe your pretend God can forgive me anyway."

The air thins and my heart sinks. It kills me that Bella thinks God wouldn't forgive her.

"You didn't-"

"One more thing," she says, cutting me off before I can say any more. "Jake told me I should let you know how I feel. I'm glad I met you, Father. Edward. I'm glad I kissed you. Twice. No take backs on that front. But I'm sorry if it fucked you up. And I'm sorry it messed up what we had. Keep on priesting on. I'll look for your comments on YouTube or whatever."

Jesus.

I don't think I've heard her say so much since I've met her.

It's a lot.

And there's so many things I want to say to her right now.

So many things I need to say.

But I wait too long to say them, and before I know it, the door to the confessional is opening, and she's gone without another word.

Shit.

It breaks parishioner confidentiality for me to go after her.

I know that.

But fuck, I do it anyway.

In an instant, I'm out in the sanctuary, practically running after her. And when I catch up to Bella, I grab her hand.

"Hold on a second."

She spins around. She looks down at our hands, then at me.

Confused. Surprised.

"Father?" And she's not angry. She's not sad. She smiles. " I thought we were done?"

I smile back. But suddenly I realize this isn't the place. Not here. Not in the sanctuary. Not with even just the small number of parishioners lingering in the pews. So I tug at her hand before letting it go. I nod toward the hallway, hoping she'll follow me willingly.

Thank God, she does.

Inside my office, it's exactly the same as the first time Bella was here. The same photos on the wall, the same books on the shelf. But it feels different. And it takes a second for me to realize why.

The two of us have changed.

Bella's not holding back anymore. But I am. And I don't want to be.

I glance up at my large, painted copy of Pope Francis and … nope. So I take him down and flip him over, exposing my obsession with Fergie on the other side.

Bella chuckles as she falls against the desk, so she's half sitting there. Laughing. "I… I… You're too fucking much. I'll never live up to her, you know that. Right?"

I laugh but it dies slow. I'm caught up in her smile. Then I lean against one of the chairs and cross my arms. I remember the first time she showed up here. I hardly knew her, but I was already drawn to her.

Now I'm consumed by her.

I nod toward the sanctuary. "That was... a lot."

"Um. What?"

"I mean, I don't think this church has heard the word fuck that many times in all its existence."

"You're focused on the fucks? The fucks?!"

Shit. "That was a very poorly timed joke."

"Maybe you're just pissed because I broke your fucking record. Stupid, swearing priest."

"What? No." I unfold my arms. "I'm not-"

"Listen, I know you didn't want me here. I'm sorry."

She what?

"Why would you think that?"

"Really? One - you told me I'm no longer a member of this church. And two - why didn't you look at me during mass yesterday?"

The question catches me off guard. I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I couldn't."

Because it's true.

"Ha!" she laughs. "You could have. You didn't. You chose not to. Did you forget about the prodigal son already, Father?"

"Bella, it's not like that." I take a step toward her, but she slides back on the desk, out of my reach. Like the thought of touching me repels her.

"It's exactly like that. I'm glad my family gets to have you. But it's really shitty that I don't."

"I know. And I was-"

"Yeah, you were just telling me to leave. To go somewhere else. Like you get the final say. Like it doesn't matter how I feel."

"It matters." Christ. It fucking matters.

"Words and actions are two different things."

"Bella."

"Father?" She smiles, but it's defiant. It's a challenge. As she waits for me to find a way to show her how much she matters to me.

I let my head fall back and glare up at the ceiling. At God. And I breathe out a heavy sigh because she's right. This is shitty.

"Fuck."

"Fuck. Fuck… fuck. I'm not letting you out-fuck me. Not now. Not when you're no longer my priest. Not when we're fighting." I look back over at her and she stares me in the eye like she knows she's about to one up me. "Eddie."

My jaw tightens. I clench my teeth.

Leah pops her head in the doorway. "I'm taking off, Father." She glances over at Bella. Sitting on my desk in her Chuck Taylors and short skirt and, fuck me, the oversized flannel is actually sexy as hell. "Unless you need anything else?"

"No thanks, Leah," I say, looking back over at Bella. "Have a good night."

"Yeah, um. You too?" she says, then turns to go.

Leah's footsteps disappear down the hall as I contemplate the woman sitting on my desk, vulnerable and defiant, impatiently waiting for me to explain why I brought her back here to my office.

I'm not quite sure how to start, now that I have her here.

"You're something else. You know that?" I tell her, because she is.

But I've said it wrong. Again. I know it when she raises an eyebrow and when she chuckles sadly. "If that's all you have to say, I should probably go."

She could be right.

Maybe.

I give Bella a nod. Then I walk over to the door as she picks her purse up off the desk.

I put my hand on the doorknob. I grip it tight. And my heart sinks.

Because I didn't ask her back here just to let her leave.

I asked her back here because I'm sick of praying to God for direction. I'm sick of asking questions I already know the answers to. I asked her here because I have a confession of my own. One that's just between me and Bella.

So I take a deep breath.

And I close the damn door.

* * *

**A/N: Um... You asked for it, you got it... early update!**

**Major blessings for reading and reviewing. You all make us smile like Fr. Edward when he sees Bella walk in the room. **

**Jo & Marie's rando confession in the dark, dank box this week: Forgive us Father, because SueBee knows her shit but sometimes we end up choosing the wrong way to technically write something b/c it sounds better in our heads. **

**Also, BIG HUGE THANKS to ChrisAnn for continuing to oversee the sins of these two writers... and for your patience with this story... and for all the laughs during down time between chapters. (my name is Jo and i love ellipses)**

**So... see you Tuesday?**


	22. Chapter 21 Heresy

**Chapter 21. Heresy **

_So I take a deep breath. _

_And I close the damn door._

**Bella**

* * *

Edward holds his hand flat against the door like he's worried God himself might try to force it open.

"Is this okay?" I wonder out loud.

He shakes his head never taking his eyes from mine. "No."

Nervous laughter bubbles up from my chest.

This is what I wanted - I wanted Edward to see me. And now he can't take his eyes off me - perched on his desk in the middle of the afternoon. I cross and recross my legs, feeling oddly exposed in the skirt I threw on this morning.

After everything I told him in the confessional, I feel like I may as well not be wearing anything at all. I've never, ever laid myself out there like that for anyone before. Still, I force myself to keep looking. There's no hiding now.

He takes a few steps toward me but stops at the chair, like he's afraid to go any further. I know the feeling. I don't trust myself either.

I swallow nervously. "If it's not okay, maybe you should open the door?"

"Not yet." He takes another step but hangs onto the chair like he needs an anchor. "I was wondering if you'd hear my confession first."

"_What?_"

Edward stares into my eyes as he sinks into a chair, and I'm caught. I couldn't walk away if I wanted to.

He clutches the armrests. "You poured your heart out back there." He nods toward the door. "But I've barely shared what's in mine. It doesn't seem fair."

"That's not true. You always let me ask you anything."

He shakes his head again. "But I haven't told you everything."

And maybe he's right. Even as friends, his priesthood stood between us. "I guess I thought it might be off the table for us."

"I don't want anything off the table anymore."

He doesn't know what he's saying. He can't.

"Stop teasing me while _I'm_ on your table." I nudge his knee with a playful kick and feel heat from his eyes travel from my Chucks to the edge of my skirt. I swivel a little to put a few more inches between us, as if it might make a difference.

Edward smiles, his focus back on my face, but he doesn't look amused. He looks so nervous I think he might faint.

"I couldn't look at you during mass because, if I had, everyone in that congregation would've known how I feel."

He takes a deep breath.

My heart pounds in my ears.

"How do you feel?" I manage to ask.

"I can't stand that I've hurt you. I wish I could take it back."

"You're talking about taking back the kisses. Right?"

"I'm talking about the coffee shop. I was a righteous idiot."

"You were never an idiot."

An idiot could never kiss like that.

"Can you think of a better word for it?" He watches me intently.

"What about the kisses?" I ask again. I need to know.

Edward blushes and fiddles with a loose thread on the arm of the chair. And just when I'm sure I've asked too much, too many times, he looks up at me and he seems determined. And eager. And maybe even hopeful.

"I've wanted to kiss you since the first night we met, Bella. I still do."

He's really good at confessing.

"Fuck," I whisper. It's not intentional. It just slips from my lips.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile. "Yeah. That too."

"What?"

"You want full disclosure. And I don't want to pretend anymore."

He doesn't take his eyes off me as he stands. Or when he leans against the desk, one hand on either side of me.

"You're not gonna tell me you can't see me again, are you?" My voice sounds breathless. My face feels like it's on fire. My body screams for his touch.

I watch Edward's Adam's apple bob in his throat. "I think we're past that." He pushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. It's like he touches my whole body with just a brush of a fingertip.

"Thank fucking God. No disrespect. To your pretend boss, I mean. _Fuck_. You know... God. _Jesus Christ_, I'm just, well… really glad." And short of breath. And maybe I have a fever.

Edward smiles as he places his hand over mine on the desk. "How would you feel -" He swallows as his fingers twine with mine. "If…" He searches my eyes.

"How would I feel if... _what_?" Because I _feel _tingly all over. I _feel _overdressed and overexposed at the same time. I _feel _a little faint, like a heroine in a Victorian romance novel, for Christ's sake.

"If I kissed you again?" Edward peers down at me. It's _the_ look, but more sincere, more intense. His eyes smolder and I think my heart stops.

"I'm all for it."

"Good," he says as he fits his body between my legs. My skirt rides to mid-thigh.

"One thing?" I ask, holding up a finger.

Edward makes a move like he might take a step back, but I press my thighs on either side of his hips to hold him in place.

"Anything," he says. And I know he means it.

"Would you touch me this time?"

A rumble tears through Edward's chest.

His lips are on mine.

His hand clutches the back of my head.

His lips part. He nips. He sucks. He tastes.

He owns. And fuck, I let him… because, Christ, his kisses.

He pulls my top lip between his, teasing, tickling. I wrap my arms around him and pull until his chest is pressed against me. Until I can feel every breath, sense every beat of his heart.

When he slips his hand underneath my skirt and clutches my thigh, I whimper into his mouth. He hitches my leg higher, holding it tighter until I feel him hard against me. I don't know if I'm more surprised by his actions or by the sound I just made.

"I dreamt about this when we went out together." His voice is low and rough, like he doesn't want God to hear.

He pulls the band from around my ponytail and my hair falls over his hand. He winds it around his fist and tugs just a little, pulling my head back. Our noses brush as he locks eyes with me. "I wanted so much more in the confessional."

"Show me?" I ask, and he kisses me again. This time I fully wrap my legs around him and he answers with a thrust. His mouth slides from my lips, nipping his way down my neck until he gets to the collar of my flannel and I think I'm going to lose my mind.

"I can't get you out of my head," he confesses.

Maybe not, but he needs to know he could totally get me out of my shirt.

"I want you to see me," I say in a voice that's little more than a gasp.

He takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. "Always." He rubs his thumb along my lower lip, and I take his hand and slide it to the top button of my shirt.

"I want you to watch." I ease my hand from his and lean back on my elbows.

At first his fingers fumble with the top button, but they're smoother as they move lower.

Cool air wafts over my skin and I shiver. He checks in with me with a glance, and I bite my bottom lip in response.

"I've thought about this a million times," he murmurs.

With the next button I start to tremble.

"You're in my dreams at night." He watches his fingers undress me, while I feel like I'm the one coming undone.

"You're on my mind every day."

With the last button unclasped he pushes my shirt aside. And sighs.

I wish I wore something sexy but Edward doesn't seem to mind the white cotton camisole. Black pupils crowd out the hazel of his eyes.

"And that fucking hymn," he says, as he slides his hands over my bare thighs to the edge of my skirt - which is hardly doing its job. Really, it's just in the way.

I run my fingers up toward the little white square at the base of Edward's neck and he goes very still. When I hook my fingers there and try to pull him toward me, the cloth slips out of the black collar on either side, exposing a little valley between his collarbones. A spot that looks like it was made for my mouth.

I test my theory as I begin to unbutton his shirt, at first ghosting my lips over the hollow. Then peppering it with open-mouthed kisses. He groans when I slide my teeth along his collarbone and braces himself against me when I suck over the spot where I find his pulse.

And when his shirt's finally undone, I pull it wide only to find another one of his comic book t-shirts underneath. Stark Industries stares at me in large block letters.

Stupid, sexy, nerdy priest.

"What?" he asks, and when I glance up at him his eyes are gleaming.

"What, what?" I ask back.

He places a finger under my chin and tips my head. "What did you just say?"

I place a soft kiss on his lips. "Stupid."

And at the corner of his mouth. "Sexy."

Then slip to the spot just behind his ear. "Nerdy."

I slide my hands around his waist and over his ass.

"Man," I whisper in his ear as I pull him against me.

After that, Edward pulls my flannel the rest of the way off, while I tug at his clerical shirt. I glance around the office, wondering if the desk is the best place for this. But the chairs are too small and the only spot on the wall that's not covered with shelves is just beneath the Fergie poster. I can't help but smirk because it's her loss, really.

He's all mine.

I pull him down by his nerdy Marvel t-shirt as I lean back on the desk. He goes from kissing my mouth, to my neck, to the valley between my breasts. Until, finally, I feel his lips close over my nipple. Which would be so much more enjoyable if my fucking camisole wasn't still on.

Forget whimpering, I practically moan. I definitely gasp. I feel my hips roll and... _Jesus_, in this position I have him right where I want him.

"Fuck," he hisses, and I know what he means.

Because when I slide my hands underneath his tee, I find cords of muscle, and I _know_ he must work out. _Christ._ There are definitely too many layers between us. He lets me pull his tee up and over his head. Suddenly I have the most beautiful topless man standing over me, gazing down like he wants to devour. I catch a blur of black ink on his chest as he wraps his arms around me.

"Wait, what's -" I start to ask, but he cuts me off with another kiss.

Whatever I was going to ask him is immediately forgotten. His skin is warm, the weight of him over me is intoxicating. His hand slips along my waist, then under the hem of my top, and… I convulse with laughter.

Suddenly I'm wriggling to get out from underneath him, pushing him away. Another brush of his fingers over my ribs and I can hardly breathe. My body's electric. My nerves are on edge. I nearly jump off the desk, dying from laughter and too much Edward.

Finally, I take a breath and open my eyes.

Edward's smiling down at me as I lay panting, half naked beneath him.

"What?" I ask. "I'm ticklish."

"This smile," he murmurs, running a finger over my lips. "I wanted to see this again. I liked to imagine how I'd make it happen. This wasn't on the list."

He looks from my face to my camisole pushed over my ribs, to the skirt pushed up over my waist. "I couldn't have imagined. Fuck."

His brow knits as his fingers skim just under the hem of my shirt.

I place my hand over his chest and give a little push so he's standing. "I've had thoughts too, you know. You're better in person."

I'm not lying either. I never dreamed he'd look like this - topless with tousled hair, his eyes dark with desire, his cheeks blushing as he stares at my breasts.

He reaches for me, but I hold up a finger and I grab the edge of my top. Pulling it over my head, I let it drop to the floor in a heap and almost combust in the heat of his gaze.

"You're breathtaking," he mutters.

"Touch me?" I ask.

His fingertip ghosts over my mouth and I let it slip between my lips. Then he traces a path down my throat and along my collarbone to the swell of my breast, which fits perfectly in his hand.

He dips his head and presses his lips to mine. His fingers explore, pulling at my nipple, palming my tit. When he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer, he tickles me again in the process and stands back to watch me laugh. I miss his touch immediately and my eyes fly open.

Without him between my legs, without his lips against my skin, or his hands around my body, all the blurry lines stand out in sharp detail. Edward's topless in his office. He's as perfect as I'd imagined, but he's not my imagination. His smile is real. His kisses, real. The tattoo over his chest… also real.

The black letters I only caught a hint of before form into words. Three words.

Poverty

Chastity

Obedience

_Oh my God._

"Bella?"

"Oh my God."

Being a priest meant so much to him that he put the words there forever. Over his freakin' heart.

Of course he did. He's the perfect fucking priest.

I glance around. Papers from his desk are scattered over the office floor. The door doesn't even have a lock. Black and white pictures of priests scowl at us from each of the walls. I'm still holding the little white square from his collar in my hand. I drop it like it's on fire.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Edward takes my hand, but I slip off the desk and out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry," I mumble.

He doesn't tell me to drink. Because this time I really should be sorry. He was meant to be a priest. Ever since he met Jasper when he was just a kid.

I tug at my skirt and find my flannel.

"I'm not -" he starts to say as I grab my purse.

I open the door just enough so I can slip out without letting anyone else see Edward topless in an office that looks like it was hit by a hurricane. I frantically try to re-button my top to cover myself. My camisole must be lost somewhere under a pile of papers, but there's no way I'm going back in.

"Bella?"

I spin around to find Bishop Whitlock leaning against a doorway at the end of the hall. As he starts to walk toward me, he looks like a man who's suddenly not sure he's in the right place.

I know _I'm_ in the wrong place. I fold my arms over my chest and try for an easy smile. "Um, hi Bishop."

He points to Edward's door. "Were you visiting Father Edward?"

Visiting. Right. Fellowshipping too.

"I, uh, was here for confession. And, um… stuff."

He eyes my top. Which is disheveled and half undone. "I see."

"Eyes up here, Bishop," I say. And fuck it, I stand tall and sling my purse over my shoulder. I forgot that most of the Catholic church is just like Bishop Whitlock. Edward's the exception.

Definitely exceptional. In many ways. _Christ._

Bishop Whitlock's face flushes. "Of course." He shakes his head and looks me in the eye, like he's seriously concerned. "Everything alright?"

"Same old, same old. You know. Your average Monday afternoon."

If your average Monday includes seducing a priest.

As we start to pass each other, he slows and he smiles. "Yes, well, you know if there's anything you need, and… Edward's not… available. I'm here. Anytime."

"Thanks, but it wouldn't be the same. There's no one… no priest like him. You know?"

He laughs, but it feels more professional than genuine. "We can definitely agree on that. Edward's one of a kind."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

"Yes!" he says, like he thinks I actually mean it. "Good to see you, Bella." As he walks away, he looks at the floor.

Which is good, because I realize I buttoned my top all wrong.

* * *

**A/N: Excuse me while I find a dark, dank box to hide in until Friday... **

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**Were you wondering what we're reading? When He Said Hello by MujerN is haunting and keeps us coming back for more. Don't Delete the Kisses by megiambeagle is the most frustrating fluff I've ever read. I think it might just qualify as flUST. **

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	23. Chapter 22 Intercession

**Chapter 22. Intercession **

**Father Cullen**

"_Oh my God, I'm sorry." _

My mind is reeling as I put the office back together. I'm on edge as I try to come to grips with how much I want Bella, and what that means for me.

But aside from worrying over what the church might do if they knew what happened today, I'm more concerned about why she left.

I went too far. Expected too much.

_Or maybe I'm just an inexperienced _idiot _who doesn't know what the _fuck _he's doing._

I stop in my tracks when I find the tank top she left on the floor.

As I fall into my chair, I picture how she looked up at me right after she pulled it over her head. And I cling to the way it felt to touch her. Kiss her. Have her skin against mine.

Soft.

Warm.

Trembling.

The door opens and I shove Bella's top into my lap. Jasper peeks into the office and knocks at the same time.

Jesus, two minutes earlier and he would have walked in on Bella and me, half naked on the desk.

We lock eyes and he opens his mouth. Then something above my head catches his attention and a scowl spreads across his face.

"Who is _that_?" he points to the wall behind me and I turn to see the large picture frame still sitting backwards against the wall.

And I sigh. Because fuck. I forgot to turn Fergie around.

"That's…" A highly inappropriate photo of the Black Eyed Peas' lead singer in cream colored short shorts with ruffles on the bottom, heels, and sinful red lipstick.

"Not Pope Francis," Jasper frowns, confused.

I suck some air in through my teeth. "No, it is not." I stare at the picture for too long. Because yeah, Fergie's tits are out there, sure, but Bella's are so much better.

"I take it the discussion didn't go as expected?" Jasper's question shocks me back to reality. It doesn't take a genius to realize he must have crossed paths with Bella in the hallway. I panic for a second, wondering what he knows.

"It was…" I clear my throat and stare blankly at the computer. "Good. We talked." And kissed. Felt each other up. Nearly had sex. There were a few words exchanged. Some laughter.

_Forgive me, Father. We'll discuss it later._

Despite Jasper's undivided attention, I think of Bella's smile.

_The _smile.

The one I've been dreaming about. How it took tickling her to make it happen.

And fuck. I love that she's ticklish but hate that she ran out of the office before I could get a better look at the numbers tattooed along her ribcage. I'm dying to ask her what they mean.

I force myself to start randomly checking emails.

Jasper's quiet, but I realize he's just going to fucking stand there until I look at him. So I peek in his general direction.

"I might not know everything that happened in here, but I know _that _-" He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. "Was not talking."

My eyes flick toward the hallway but back to the emails almost immediately.

"I don't know what to tell you." Hell if I know how to explain this away.

"So you're saying you two really just… _talked_." His mouth is turned down when I glance over at him. I can't look him in the eye for more than a second before I zone in on an important message from… who the hell cares.

"Yep."

I'll be saying multiple Hail Mary's tonight. I regret lying to Jasper, but God's not going to hear a peep out of me about anything else.

I click on some meeting that's supposed to be happening in… _fuck_. Thirty minutes.

I see Jasper in my periphery, crossing his arms… staring. "Okay then, come on, let's get some dinner. We'll talk."

"Can't."

When I finally look over at him again he's grinning ear to ear.

"This reminds me of when you were dating Katie."

My face flushes. My mind reels with memories of my junior year in high school.

"You remember Katie?" Jasper asks with an amused look.

"Yep."

"You two were inseparable."

"Jasper." I nearly shout his name. "_Jesus_. I remember." I try to laugh it off, but I think my irritation comes through anyway. He seems stunned into silence.

Or maybe he's just waiting for my confession. Which is not happening.

"This is nothing like Katie."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm a fucking adult. And a priest. And..."

He tilts his head. "And?"

I let out a sigh. "I don't know."

"Okay," he says, cautiously taking a seat. "Tell me about it."

Normally I would. Normally I'd spill everything and ask him for his guidance.

This isn't a normal day though. This is an exceptional day.

"I don't think so."

My eyes dart to the edge of my desk and I see Bella there. Topless, breathless, beautiful. Then I look down to my lap where her tank top sits - thin enough that it left nothing to the imagination. I could never have conjured up how she looked.

Olive skin. And, God help me, her breasts were… delicate. Soft. And fit perfectly in my hands. Christ, I want my lips on them again. Without her top in the way.

I blink the image away and try to focus back on Jasper, who's got an eyebrow raised at me like I'm sixteen again. But it's between me and her. Not Jasper. Not even God, for that matter.

Jasper nods and sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Okay, I'll just say what I came to say in the first place."

"Shoot." I roll my chair away from the desk and try to act like a priest who didn't just spend the past half hour in the throes of passion.

"The diocese over in Italy-"

"Jasper." I shake my head.

"I know, I know. But hear me out." He rests his elbows on the desk, just to the right of where Bella was sitting. "All I did was talk. I told them about you, about how you've been doing. They're really excited to have you over there. If you want it."

My first instinct is to tell him no because that would mean leaving Bella behind. But she's leaving anyway. My second instinct is also to say no because this is where I'd feel closer to her.

Her family is here. She'll be back eventually.

Right?

Fuck. I'm frustrated. And I feel completely powerless about what's happening in my life. Any other time, I'd leave it up to God. Today I'm undecided.

"You can't keep hiding from the rest of the world, Edward," he reminds me like he's done on so many other occasions. And I suppose he's right. So I go with my third instinct.

"I'll think about it." Jasper smiles. He's proud.

"That's what I hoped you'd say." He stands up and comes around to my side of the desk and I get up out of my seat just in time for him to throw his arms around me in a big, bear hug.

"It'll all work out the way it's supposed to," he tells me before letting me go. Then his eyes spot the tank top I've been holding onto like my life depends on it.

"I know there are no rules about what you wear under your clerical garments. Didn't know you were into lace though."

Fuck.

And now he knows. Of course.

xXxXx

I can't say I'm excited when I arrive at the Swan's house Tuesday evening. I've never given someone an ultimatum about marrying them before.

Not to mention, I haven't spoken to Bella since yesterday. She hasn't responded to my text. _Texts_. I tried to text her twice, and then I remembered how Ben was constantly texting her. I don't want to be that guy.

The fact that I literally scared her out of my arms yesterday has me unable to think clearly. I just hope I can pull it together for the Swan's sake.

Angela needs me.

The door opens and Charlie's there, smiling, until he's not.

"You okay, Father?"

I force a grin. "Hi Charlie. Everyone here?"

His face falls a bit. "Not everyone," he says with some resignation, as he opens the door wide and lets me in.

I pat him on the back as we step inside. "Train up a child in the way they should go..."

He rubs at the back of his neck and puts on a brave face. "Yeah." Then he motions for me to head into the formal living room. "Come on in. Renee's got a whole spread planned."

I take a seat across from the couch. "How's work?"

"They're threatening lay-offs. Just gotta make it another five years, Father. Then it's fishing all day long."

"You have a boat?"

Charlie laughs. "Yeah, maybe there's gotta be another step in the middle there. You fish?"

I shrug. "A fisher of men?"

He chuckles. "Good one." Then he glances around. "Listen, Father, I wanted to ask you -" But then jumps to his feet. His smile is suddenly stiff. "Oh, here's the rest of 'em."

Angela stands in the doorway, avoiding eye contact, looking sheepish. Ben's right behind her with his hand on her back. Then Mrs. Swan steps around them. She sits herself in between her daughter and Ben on the couch, and looks over at me expectantly. Her Bible is in one hand, a pad and pen in the other like there's going to be a test at the end of this meeting. "It's good to see you, Father."

"Um, Mom," Angela begins.

"Angela, I'm here to make sure you and Ben don't-"

"Mrs. Swan," I interject. "With all due respect, this discussion is going to require Ben and Angela to be open and honest with one another."

"And?"

"And I don't think that's something they're going to be able to do with you here."

She looks offended, like she's prepared to fight me on this.

"Come on, Renee. Let the man do his job."

Mrs. Swan's mouth opens like she's about to argue, and Charlie gives her a look that only someone who's been married for over twenty years could. She finally gives in and gets up, leaving without another word.

Charlie winks in my direction as he slides the pocket doors closed between the living room and the rest of the house. I imagine Renee's listening just on the other side, but at least it gives the appearance of privacy.

Thank God for Charlie.

"Thanks for hearing us out, Father," Angela says.

"I was surprised when you called the other day."

"Well, you told me this had to happen." She grabs Ben's hand.

"I did. It does. I guess I thought… I mean I heard the two of you had broken things off, so…"

"It was just nerves, you know?" Ben says. He puts his arm around Angela's shoulders and pulls her into his side. "All guys have them, I think. It's a big commitment."

"And then add someone like Bella to the mix. You know, Father?" Angela pipes in to ask.

"I'm sorry." I couldn't have possibly heard her right. "Someone like Bella?"

Someone who can steal your heart with a smile and sarcastic remark?

Ben makes it clear. "A girl like that. _Trouble_."

"I see." I clench my jaw and ignore the urge to punch him for his insinuation. "So, Bella _asked _you to kiss her." I pretend like I'm looking for clarification. The truth is, I already know the answer. She told me the first day we met.

She didn't ask.

Angela's hand slips away from Ben's.

"Not in so many-" Ben glances over at Angela, then back at me.

"Not in so many… _what_?"

"Angela and I have been waiting, lately anyway. So, I'm… And Bella's... I mean, you know Bella." Ben huffs and runs a hand through his hair. "No, technically she didn't ask. Not in so many words."

"Let me make it clear for you, the answer is definitely no, Ben."

"But, Father-" Angela says, looking between me and her fiancé.

"He needs to take responsibility for his actions," I tell her. "What if a year or two from now he thinks another woman's asking for it?"

I can tell by the look on her face, Angela hasn't considered this before.

Ben tips her chin so she's looking into his eyes. "It's not gonna happen. I love Angie. With all my heart," he promises. Enough so I _almos_t believe him.

A tear slides down Angela's cheek. "I love you too, Benny."

Ben takes her hand again as he looks back in my direction. "We made some mistakes."

My gaze slips to Angela's midsection then back to her face. But I don't suppose I can hold that against them. Not after what happened in my office yesterday.

"Who wants tea?" Mrs. Swan asks as she pushes the doors open. Angela wipes tears away from her eyes and her mother pretends not to notice. "Always helps smooth over the rough edges, doesn't it?"

But she _does _notice the look on my face. And she's not pleased. "Or maybe you'd like some coffee instead, Father? I just put on a pot."

"No thank you Mrs. Swan." I try to remain polite as I wait for her to arrange a tray on the coffee table. It takes her longer than I would have thought. She's very meticulous. Or nosy. Take your pick.

"Goodness! I forgot the cream. I'll run and get it and bring those biscotti I saved in the pantry for a rainy day. They'd be perfect for-"

"Mom!" Angela nearly shouts, her face still flushed from crying a little. "Do you _want_ us to get married?"

"I just thought if I-"

"We've got this, Mom," Ben says, sounding confident and reassuring. "Angie and I have to do this on our own. If we can't, we probably shouldn't get married. Am I right, Father?"

I watch him as he looks Mrs. Swan directly in the eyes. I take in what he says. How he says it. The way he looks back at Angela and rubs a stray tear from her cheek.

And maybe he means it. All of it. Maybe he's actually figured things out. He's here, after all.

"I'm trying to make this right," Ben tells me once Mrs. Swan clears out. "As right as I can, all things considered."

So I lay it out for him. "You want to make things right? Apologize to your sister-in-law."

Ben huffs, slightly amused. "You're going to have to be more specific. I'm about to have three."

"Bella," I tell him, making it undoubtedly clear which sister. And when I say her name out loud to the guy who brought her to tears, it makes me a little lightheaded.

"But why, Father?" Angela nearly jumps off the couch. "When you said we needed to talk to you, I didn't think you wanted to talk about… _her_."

She's wrong. I do want to talk about Bella. I could talk about her all night long. In fact, I have an urge to pull my phone out and see if she's texted me back.

"You too, Angela," I tell her. Am I a little harsh when I say it? I am. But she can consider it payback for the way she sneers whenever she says Bella's name.

"I don't have anything to say to her after the way she's treated me."

"She's treated you better than your fiancé has."

Angela is aghast. "_Excuse_ me?"

"Hold on there a goddamn minute, Father," Ben cuts in.

"Those are my terms. Take it or leave it." If they want to be jackasses, I can be one too. A righteous jackass.

"I thought this was going to be about…"

Angela's eyes drift lower. She's not sure what this is about anymore. Neither am I, actually. Because lately everything comes back to Bella. Just a second ago I felt, with absolute conviction, that the two of them need to apologize to Bella before I'd marry them.

Now I'm questioning my motives and I'm not sure if I'm thinking clearly. How can Ben and Angela's marriage be all about Bella?

"Maybe we could all use some air," I suggest, hoping to clear my head. "Ten minute break?"

Angela sighs. Ben heads for the front door. I make my way out back.

xXxXx

I step out onto the patio and it reminds me of the night I met Bella. She was a little drunk and more than a little frustrated with her family. Now I'm the one frustrated with her family. And I wish she was here.

I see a light switch on in the garage and I remember Bella's accidental confession about her father. I could really use a smoke.

"Charlie?" I push open the door to the garage.

"Oh my God!" He nearly jumps out of his skin as he spins to see me standing there.

I laugh, feeling like the principal catching a student hiding his stash at recess. Hell, I _was _that kid once.

"Got a spare?" I nod to the pack of cigarettes hidden behind a table saw.

He looks like he's about to deny everything but then decides, to hell with it. "You smoke?"

"I won't tell if you don't."

Charlie chuckles, but _thank God_, he hands the pack over to me after he takes one for himself. "You need something, Father? Besides nicotine?"

I need his daughter to text me back, but it hardly seems appropriate to say so. "I needed a break."

He flicks the lighter and holds it out for me. "Me too. The house might seem pretty empty, but whew… there's a lot going on inside."

He's got that right.

"Agreed." I take a drag and lean against the wall. Watching Charlie is like watching the ocean on a calm day. Still and quiet at the surface but, just below that, there's so much going on.

"You were about to ask me something. Before everyone joined us in the living room," I remind him.

He sighs. His brows knit together. "Have you talked to my girl?" The words come out in a rush of guilt and anxiety.

"I, um, spoke with Bella yesterday."

And now he's confused. "Glad to hear it. But I, uh… What about Alice?"

Shit.

"Right. Um, yeah." I scratch the back of my head. "I did. A couple days ago."

"She left without saying anything, Father. Won't tell us where she's staying. She's only got this part-time gig in the school library. How's she gonna take care of herself?"

Charlie's concern gives me hope for this family. He's everything my father wasn't. "You're a good man. The girls know you love them. You just have to let them know they can talk to you when they're ready."

"You're not going to tell me where she's at, are you?"

I shrug. "She asked me not to." And I feel terrible.

"She safe at least?"

"More than safe," I tell him. "She's loved."

"Would you tell her I asked about her?"

"Absolutely."

Charlie suddenly finds something very interesting in his collection of wrenches hanging from the wall. He sniffs a little, but takes a drag from his cigarette to cover it up. Then he exhales. His eyes are bright when he looks back at me. "Makes me feel better knowing you're looking out for her."

"Charles?" Renee's voice throws the both of us into a panic. We toss our cigarette butts onto the ground like synchronized sinners. Charlie reaches for a can of air freshener on reflex, like he's done this a million times before. By the time the garage door opens, it smells like we've been squeezing lemons for hours.

"You brought the Father in here?" she asks. Her eyes narrow as she tries to inconspicuously inspect the floor.

"He was just talking to me about Alice, Renee."

Mrs. Swan's hand flies to her chest, suddenly hopeful. "You've seen her?"

"I was just telling Charlie she's fine."

"She was here with Bella today while we were at work. Packing up some of her things. Moving them off to God knows where." She shakes her head like she's asked God repeatedly and He hasn't given anything away.

God does know where, of course. So do I. Alice's girlfriend Jane lives about ten blocks away, just on the other side of St. Mary's. "Have you thought about Bella at all?" I wonder out loud.

She left the Swan's home the same night Alice did.

"My goodness, yes. I'm beside myself with worry -"

I nod, cautiously optimistic.

"- about how much time Alice seems to be spending with Bella. That child's always been such a bad influence."

I should have known. "You're kidding, right?"

"I wish I was, Father. Her whole life. Shaved her dolls heads. Cut up the clothing we paid good money for. Always sneaking cigarettes." Mrs. Swan gives Charlie a decent side eye.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. _Always the rebel._ "That's hardly-"

"For her first confession? She snuck an Alka Seltzer out of the house and popped it into her mouth just as she stepped into the confessional. Pretending to be possessed. Frothing at the mouth. Can you imagine?"

I can absolutely imagine. And I try not to laugh.

"She just let it fizz right out the side of her mouth and down her chin." Mrs. Swan shakes her head.

I hold a hand over my mouth.

"She came... _stumbling _out of the confessional." She waves a hand. "Holding her hands out in front of her. Scared all the people waiting in line."

I can't hold the laughter in anymore. Charlie's still managing to hide his amusement.

"Told the priest she was _possessed by the devil_." She whispers the last part. Like she doesn't want God to hear. Or maybe anyone else for that matter.

I'm full on laughing now. Shoulders bobbing. Holding my sides.

"Father." Mrs. Swan scowls. "This is serious."

"She really is one of a kind," I admit.

"That's not the word I was thinking."

"Come on. You've gotta admit, for a ten year old, that's pretty genius."

"To this day, I think she's partly to blame for Father Volturi's early death."

The priest was almost ninety when he passed, a fact I'm certain Mrs. Swan knows as well.

"And when I think of innocent little Alice-"

"OK. That's where I need to stop you." Mrs. Swan's eyes go big. And I'm not laughing anymore.

She takes a step away from me. "Father?"

"Do you realize Bella is the only person in your family Alice feels like she can confide in at the moment?"

"Confide in about what?" Charlie asks.

"And do you realize Alice is the only person in your family who reached out to Bella after you and Angela blamed her for Ben's actions?"

Mrs. Swan looks confused. "But Father, she-"

"Bella came to me in tears because she felt she had nowhere to turn. You should thank God Alice and Bella are there for one another, when the rest of the family turned their backs."

Renee, for once, doesn't know what to say.

Charlie lowers his head and rubs his hand over the stubble of his beard. "Fuck."

"Charlie!" Renee chastises him almost the same way she chastises her daughters. One daughter in particular. I see him eying the hidden pack of cigarettes. I have half a mind to pull them out in front of his wife. I could use another too.

"I never turned my back on Alice." Mrs. Swan folds her arms across her chest, taking me on again. And it pushes me over the edge.

"You have four daughters, Mrs. Swan. I was at St. Mary's for a year and you came to confession week after week. How come you never mentioned Bella? I heard all about the others."

"Father, I-"

"You've been at church each Sunday. Have you listened to _any _of my homilies?"

She looks scared. Maybe ashamed. I'm not sure.

"You owe your daughter an apology. And for the love of God, I hope you start practicing acceptance when it comes to each of your children. Otherwise you're going to push them _all _away."

"I'm sorry, Father, but Bella waltzed in here and tried to come between Ben and Angela."

"She was _completely _upfront with Angela about what happened. She tried to warn her about Ben."

Mrs. Swan gesticulates with her hands so I have to step back to avoid getting hit. "And then she's always avoiding us and half-drunk when she's here."

"She's honest, kind, and funny."

"Her sense of humor is scandalous."

"It is," I agree wholeheartedly. "But it's mostly a defense mechanism. She's afraid of being hurt. I think it's happened a lot. But she keeps putting herself out there. And she's incredibly talented. She's the best thing to ever-"

I stop short when I catch Charlie looking at me funny. "-happen to St. Mary's."

To me.

I'm glad I caught Charlie's eye. I nearly admitted his daughter has me questioning my priesthood.

I take a deep breath. "You're missing out on getting to know her. Personally, I'm glad Alice is giving it a chance."

"When you put it like that…" Charlie says, but can't seem to find the words to finish as he gives me a good once over. Mrs. Swan doesn't look quite so convinced.

"I lost my family when I was young," I find myself admitting, like Bella's opened up this can of worms and I can't close it again.

"Oh, Father, I'm so sorry." Mrs. Swan grabs Charlie's hand.

"Every child needs unconditional acceptance. My parents died before they could figure it out, but it's not too late for you and Bella."

"He's right, Renee," Charlie tells his wife.

"I don't know," Renee begins.

"Yeah ya do. She's our kid. A _good _kid. She's not a criminal."

She raises her eyebrows at that.

"Remind you of anyone?" he asks.

"My Aunt Sylvia?" Renee guesses.

Charlie shakes his head. "In case you forgot, you drove your mother insane, Renee. We got married right outta school because you were this close to being thrown out."

Mrs. Swan looks more sheepish than defiant. "And then I learned how to act right."

"And maybe Bella figured out a way to get by without it."

"I should get back to Angela and Ben," I say, looking at Renee a little differently. After all this time, I thought I knew her. Maybe she sees a little too much of herself in Bella and it scares her.

I try to picture the rebel Mrs. Swan keeps hidden underneath her careful Catholic exterior.

"Before you go, tell me you'll marry those kids in there?" Renee asks. "Please?"

I give her a small, exhausted grin. "Yeah, Mrs. Swan. I'll marry them. But I'm going to make them sweat it out for a few more minutes."

She smiles so big and full of relief. She throws her arms around my neck. It's a good half a minute before she lets go. Then she steps back with a hand to her mouth, like it's a cardinal sin to hug your priest.

She blushes a little and grabs for Charlie's hand again. "Thanks, Father. And, maybe after all of this, you should just call me Renee. I feel like we're family now."

I duck my head, trying to hide my burning cheeks and tell the two of them I need to get back inside. Angela and Ben are waiting.

"And Father, before you go," Mrs… I mean, _Renee_ calls out, stopping my getaway.

She holds out a cardboard moving box. "Alice left this here today. I think she meant to take it with her… to _wherever _she is." She rolls her eyes. "Would you bring it to her for us? Since the two of you are in touch?"

xXxXx

On my way home, I take a detour and stop by Jane's apartment.

I'm torn between hope that Bella's there, and fear that I'll run into her if she is. She still hasn't texted me back and I don't know what the fuck that means.

It probably means she doesn't want to see me. That she's taken her former priest's advice and is trying to move on. Yet here I am, knocking on the door, listening to music and laughter on the other side.

I'm happy for Alice. Ecstatic, really. I'm grateful she's found someone.

And I'm grateful that Bella has Alice in her life.

I'm also nervous as Hell I might not be part of that life going forward.

I'm about to just leave the box and make a run for it when the door swings open. I nearly drop the damn thing and struggle to get my balance back.

"Did you get the message about the peppero-"

"Hey, your mom asked me to-"

I look up to see Bella standing in the doorway. Gorgeous as ever. Shocked to see me.

"Hey," I say.

_Fuck._

Hey?

Really?

"Father!" Alice skips to Bella's side. "Is that my box?"

I grin when I see how incredibly happy Alice looks. "It must be." I sneak a glance toward Bella as I hand it over. "My box is dark and dank."

Bella presses her lips together as she tucks some hair behind her ear, looking away like she's trying to hide her laughter. When she looks back at me, her eyes glitter. She's blushing as she bites her bottom lip.

I'm still staring at her when Alice asks, "Father?"

"What?" I force my eyes from Bella and give my full attention to Alice.

"Come on in!"

She flits away, side stepping piles of boxes. Some empty, some full, and all over the place. "Jane! Father Edward's here!" she calls out over the music.

"What are you… I mean how did you even know…" Bella asks, backing away from me.

"Father comes by every once in a while," Alice explains from across the room. "Let me go get Jane."

Then it's just me and Bella… alone. In the doorway.

I'm not sure what to say. What to do.

"So…" Bella rocks onto her heels and purses her lips.

"I'm sorry," I tell her.

"Drink?"

I laugh. A little. "Herbal tea?" I ask, nodding to the mug in her hand.

"Alice sprung for the strong stuff. _Black_ tea."

I nod. I glance down. I reach for her hand. Our fingers touch. Barely.

But fuck. It's not like I can hold it the way I want, hold _her_ the way I want. "You left kind of abruptly yesterday."

She can't stop looking at our hands. "Yeah. I couldn't let you..." And she looks into my eyes.

"Oh my goodness, Bella! Let him in. Father, you should stay and have some Earl Grey. Pizza's on the… Oh."

Bella and I both look up to see Alice standing there, watching the two of us almost holding hands.

I clear my throat.

"Wanna get out of here?" Bella asks. She twines her fingers with mine and there's no mistaking. We're… officially holding hands.

At first, I feel a familiar pang of panic that Alice will be appalled. That she'll think less of me. Less of Bella. I feel the color draining from my face. But then I remember who Alice is and who Bella is and how we're each imperfect, but trying to do the right thing.

Fuck if I know what the right thing is these days.

I glance down at our hands together. It feels pretty damn right to me.

So I give Bella's hand a squeeze and smile before answering her.

"Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

**A/N: Can we get an AMEN for Old Testament Edward in the house? We think Renee needed that… you? **

**Reading material: The Whispering Woods by ericastwilight, guys. Because omg. This supernatural story gives us _GOOSEBUMPS_! **

**THANKS Sue! for not killing us over the endless amount of ANDs we use. THANKS Chrisann, for your constant support and THANKS to you all for not excommunicating us over that last chapter. WE LOVE YOU GUYS. Thanks for being here! **


	24. Chapter 23 Grace

**Chapter 23. Grace**

**Bella**

* * *

I grab my purse but decide to leave my jacket behind. It's all the way across the apartment, and Alice is watching my every move.

She knows.

I know she knows.

I just can't let her know that I know she knows.

Somehow, that would be too much.

Actually, it's already too much, with Edward standing there in the doorway in his white collar and clerical clothes, looking like he can't wait to get me alone.

Hot, impatient, hand-holding priest.

I can't close the door behind us a moment too soon.

"Where have you been?" he asks as soon as we've got some privacy.

"Um, Brooklyn?"

As we walk down the hall toward the elevator, he pulls out his collar and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "You hungry?"

A Captain Marvel tee is stretched over his chest. I catch myself staring and remember to look at his face.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I hope I'm taking you to dinner." He folds the clerical shirt and hangs it from his arm, then slides his collar into his back pocket.

"But -" I search his eyes as we wait for the elevator.

"But maybe you don't want to? You didn't answer my texts." He looks disappointed.

"What was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know. Say you're all right. Say you don't hate me, say-"

"I don't hate you." I can't let him think that.

Edward looks relieved. "Good." He slips his hands into his pockets. "Do you like Italian?"

"I _am_ Italian, so…"

"So, Randazzo's?" he asks.

And I laugh.

"What?"

I can't tell him it's the spot where I realized I loved him while I was on a date with Jacob Black. "Nothing. They just have shit beer, but a really nice view."

"Somewhere else then?"

"Nope. It's kinda perfect."

This time I can love him there in person.

In the elevator, I glance over at Edward.

I remember the way he looked half naked, the feel of him between my thighs. I rub my legs together and lean against the elevator for support.

It's all I can do not to jump his bones right here.

I remind myself of the words tattooed over his heart and manage to barely hold myself back.

But he's staring at me.

"Really, Edward?"

"What?"

"_The look_?" I concentrate on the ceiling. "So not fair right now."

He laughs. "I'm not doing it on purpose. I swear."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Edward tries very hard not to look at me any kind of way after that. Not in the elevator. Not as we walk down the hall. Not as he holds the front door open for me. It's not working, of course. The more he tries, the more I like him.

Once we step outside, I'm grateful for the cool night air. I need all the help I can get to chill the fuck out. Then Edward takes my hand like it's the most normal thing in the world and I'm right back where I started.

Back in the elevator. Back in his office. Back in the confessional.

Jesus, I'm completely undone by the littlest thing - his fingers twined with mine.

"I'm starving," he says. "The only thing I had to eat today was biscotti at your parents' house."

It turns out mentioning my parents is one surefire way to stop me from swooning. I'm aghast.

"You were hanging out with my parents?"

"I was working." He doesn't look entirely pleased.

"Oh. Right."

I want to ask him what kind of priestly business brought him there. I do _not_ want to know what my parents probably said about me. Whatever it was, he's here anyway, holding my hand as we walk through the sleepy streets of Sheepshead Bay. It couldn't have been that bad.

"I knew she was hiding the biscotti," I mutter. Figures she'd save them for Edward.

He laughs a little and tugs my hand so we come to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "So, serious question." Then knits his brows and looks solemn as he stares down at me.

_Shit. _Maybe they threw me under the bus after all. "Um, okay."

"What's this about you trying to kill Father Volturi?"

"_What_?" I expected them to call me a slut, not a murderer.

"Something about you showing up for confession possessed by a demon?" His serious facade starts to crumble and a sliver of a smile breaks through.

I freakin' giggle. I can't help it.

"Frothing at the mouth in the confessional? Really Bella?" His eyes dance in the streetlight.

There are so many worse stories they could have told. The demon possession is actually one of my finest moments.

"I mean, it must have been difficult to find an exorcist," he says with a laugh.

I shrug as we start walking again. "We couldn't find one, Father. Still possessed."

"Maybe I can help with that. I took a class." I glance up at him, and he's giving me the look again. I think he realizes it because he tries to make his face look completely expressionless.

Dear God, every time he tries _not_ to flirt with me, it makes me love him more.

"You want to _exorcise the demon from me_?" I ask, nudging him with my elbow. "Is that what they're calling it in the seminary these days?"

His expression turns sincere. "No, they still call it sex. That was me... trying to be witty... about exorcism."

When did I start finding awkward so damn sexy?

"Good to know. About the priests in training. And… the sex."

Edward blushes as he holds the restaurant's door open for me. It's freakin' adorable.

"You sure you want to '_exorcise me'?_ 'Cause it seems like you like me. Demons and all."

"Absolutely," he replies without hesitation.

Then he seems to think twice. "I mean, I like you. Not that you have demons. I mean, we all have demons. _Jesus_. Fuck. I'm not very good at this." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "I haven't been on a date in over a decade."

I stop in my tracks, ignoring the hostess smiling at the two of us. "This is a date?"

"See what I mean? I haven't even established what this is and here I am -"

"Yes, here you are," the hostess says, smiling brightly at me and Edward. "Welcome to Randazzo's! First date?"

Edward's mouth hangs open.

"I'm actually an old pro," I tell her, then nod to the tall drink of water by my side. "But I think it might be this guy's second date. Ever."

Edward narrows his eyes at me and rubs the back of his neck, but he's grinning. He lets me take his hand as the hostess leads us to an empty booth by the windows. Moonlight glitters on the water and lights twinkle across the inlet on Manhattan Beach.

"Pro tip, Father. You should leave the clerical clothes at home when you take a girl out," I say as he shoves his shirt into a corner of the booth.

"And you should probably call me Edward," he tells me. "_If_ this is a date."

He gives me the same kind of hopeful look Jake did the other night. Except this time I want to throw my arms around his neck and say something ridiculous like, 'Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!'

But he's a priest. With his vows tattooed on his chest.

How the hell is this supposed to be a date?

I mean, dear Lord, I'd _really_ like to date the gorgeous guy in the nerdy comic book tee sitting across from me.

I'd like to date the man I happen to love.

Okay, God, I'm just gonna go with this.

"Bella?" Edward asks.

I jump a little in my seat. "Just saying some prayers. Don't mind me. God's got a sense of humor, you know?"

His face practically lights up. "You're praying?"

I shrug. "More like talking. Silently. To God."

He smiles. "You're praying."

"I am _not _praying."

"You just said you were praying."

"Whatever, you dork. I misspoke. It's not like God's there to talk back or anything."

Edward picks up a menu and reads it over, pretending like he doesn't care one way or the other. "What were you praying about?"

He's not a good liar. But as I look across at him, he _is _undeniably mouthwatering, and he's taking me on a date. "My prayers were already answered."

Edward drops the menu, raises an eyebrow, and gives me his undivided attention. "So you admit God was listening. _And _answered you." Now he's smirking.

I'd like to kiss that look right off his face. I think I could. But now's probably not the right time.

"I admit nothing," I tell him instead. "Anyway, I'm pretty certain God wouldn't approve."

"I'm not so sure."

He says it like he's been thinking about it too, like his pretend boss might approve of this date. It's a really nice thought… if you believe in a God. Which I do not.

Not strictly speaking, anyway.

"So, have you been here before?" he asks.

"Just a couple of days ago. With Jake. Ooh - have you tried their tiramisu?"

Edward's jaw tightens as he scans the menu again. "Jake, huh?"

I reach for his hand. "Hey, Alice set us up. My parents love him, but I don't."

"He seems like a good guy." Wow, Edward's _really_ studying that menu.

"Yeah, but good guys have never been a turn on for me, so..."

Not until now, anyway. Not until I met the guy sitting across from me.

Edward nods and finally glances up from the damned menu. I try for a reassuring smile.

"No second date in your future then?"

"Well, he's supposed to take me to Angela's wedding, if that's even happening. If I'm even going."

Edward practically groans and stops making eye contact. "Happening."

I drop his hand. "You're marrying them?"

"They're determined. They said all the right things." He doesn't seem excited about it.

"Ugh, well the two of them deserve one another."

Edward and I both read the menu in silence. I try to focus on food instead of my simmering disappointment. I was sure Edward was going to save Angela from making the biggest mistake of her life.

I've never expected a date to fix my family before. It's probably not a fair ask.

Of course, I've also never dated a priest.

I glance over the top of the menu. Edward's staring.

"Do you want to talk about what happened between you Ben?" he asks.

"On our first date? I don't think so. I'll save it for my next priest."

"Your -"

"Welcome to Randazzo's! Can I take your… _Father Edward_?"

Edward and I freeze for a moment. Lauren Mallory's standing next to our booth with a pad and a pen, wearing an apron and a stunned look on her face.

"And _Bella Swan_?" she asks.

"Hey, Lauren. Long time, no see."

The last time she saw me was… not good. It involved boxed wine, bad weed, and the Nazareth High School Drama Club.

Lauren doesn't waste her attention on me, though.

"My God, Father! I almost didn't recognize you without… you know." She brushes her finger over the front of her neck in a tight circle, like she's trying to talk about a clerical collar and act sexy at the same time.

I know that move, Lauren. I perfected that move.

Edward flashes me an uneasy smile. "I like to keep my parishioners guessing."

"Is that what you're doing here? With Bella? Guessing?"

Her eyes narrow as she looks between the two of us.

"Exorcism!" I practically shout.

Lauren jumps.

"Excuse me?"

A smile spreads across Edward's face as he shakes his head.

"Bella's been concerned..." He glances around the restaurant and then lowers his voice to a whisper. "About demons. It's been a problem since her first confession."

Lauren smiles nervously, then glances over her shoulder and gives me a good once over. "I get that."

"He took a class." I shrug. "Figured it couldn't hurt to try out his... demon services."

xXxXx

After Lauren takes our order, I try not to regret everything - from the penne alla vodka I chose on the fly, to the way I forced Edward to lie to our server, to the fact I care that he's marrying Angela and Ben.

"Be right back," I tell Edward, slipping out of the booth. "I need to use the bathroom."

What I actually need is a minute without Edward sitting across from me, looking at me adoringly. I'm suddenly second guessing each and every time I've held his hand tonight. What if he says something nerdy and sweet and I do it again? What if I lose my head, lean across the table and kiss him?

We're less than two miles from St. Mary's.

Less than a mile from my parents' house.

Fuck. Less than ten feet from Ben Cheney.

As I walk through the bar on my way to the bathroom, I spot Ben leaning against the wall like he doesn't have a care in the world. He's got Lauren cornered near the kitchen. No one would guess he's supposed to be walking down the aisle in three days.

I vomit a little in my mouth as I slip by the two of them.

In the bathroom, I splash some water on my face and weigh my options. I could just duck out the front door and leave Randazzo's, avoid Edward for the rest of the week, head out on tour, and forget about my almost-affair with a man of the cloth.

Just the thought of it makes me feel like I've been hollowed out with a dull knife.

I want every single moment I can get with him. I want whatever he's willing to give, whether it's kissing or just holding hands. Hell, I'd help him write a homily if that's what he wanted.

Right now he wants to be here, with me, despite my demons. I should hear him out.

I take one last look in the mirror and see the jeans, the ripped Doors t-shirt, the messy bun. I'm dressed for moving Alice into Jane's house, not a date.

I pull my hair down and run my fingers through it. I pinch my cheeks to bring a little color to my face. Then I take a deep breath and head back out.

Ben's still talking to Lauren. He pulls at the strap of her apron. She looks like she's trying to politely shrink away from him.

"There's this red dress at the warehouse that would look great on you." His eyes drift below her face, then he places a finger between Lauren's breasts. "Cut down to about here. You'd look pretty hot."

I tug on Ben's shoulder. "You want a knee to the balls again, buddy?"

He spins around and looks me over. His smile is far from kind. I suppose we're past that.

"Look who the cat dragged in."

"Shouldn't you be home with your fiancé?"

Lauren's eyes go wide. "Fiancé?"

"Haven't you heard? This fine specimen of manhood is marrying my little sister in a couple of days. We're all _really_ excited."

I put an arm around Ben's shoulders and squeeze. It gives Lauren just enough room to slide between him and the wall.

He shrugs out of my grip. "Why the fuck are you on my ass all of a sudden, Swan?"

"Why couldn't you have just stayed away from my family?"

"Since when do _you _give a fuck about _them_?"

His words sting, but if he asked me the same question a week ago, he'd probably be right.

"She's my little sister. I care."

"You think she cares about you?"

Probably not, but it doesn't matter. She's family.

"Go home, Ben. You're wasted. You're gonna get yourself in trouble."

Ben cracks his knuckles and scans the room. "It's my bachelor party, babe. An Angela-approved exploit. Who woulda' thought _you_ would try to get in the way of my last night of freedom?"

xXxXx

Edward can tell I'm not happy when I slide back into the booth.

He looks determined as he reaches across the table. He takes my hand like he doesn't care who the hell sees.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

Ben Cheney's ruined enough for me. I'm not going to let him ruin this night too.

"It is now."

"You took your hair down."

I try to pat down any fly-aways. "This date took me by surprise. For future reference, you should give a girl some warning."

"For future reference, it looks beautiful either way."

I drop my hand and smile like the love-struck idiot I am. Edward gazes back at me, and fuck, this is awkward.

"Crazy weather we're having."

He laughs. "Weather?"

"I don't know. I'm nervous." I fiddle with the cloth napkin. "First date and all. And the guy I'm seeing? He's really cute."

Edward tries to casually hide a smile behind his hand, but it doesn't hide the way he's blushing. He shakes his head, amused.

"So we're going to talk about the weather?" he asks.

"I don't know. Do you have a better idea?"

He's thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe a few rounds of ask me anything?"

I grin. "You first."

I tell Edward about the phone call that changed everything for me. Mike Newton called me out of the blue and told me he listened to every single song I'd ever posted, then invited me to tour with him. I don't tell him about everything that came afterwards. It's not first date kind of material.

Edward tells me about his first and only serious girlfriend, Kate. She was older, more experienced, and apparently taught him how to kiss like a rock star. Actually, better than a rock star. I would know.

I tell him about my roommates back in L.A. and how I met Emily. He tells me about some of the other priests in training he used to know and where they ended up.

He tells me he's Team Stark, and I like him enough to stick around.

"Stark's got a plethora of wealth at his fingertips, Bella. He can build anything. _Do _anything."

"My point exactly. It's easy for someone like that to _pretend_ to be a superhero."

"He doesn't _have _to be. He wasn't born into it. Or made. He chooses it. He wants to make a difference, despite his arrogance."

His passion is adorable even though he's so wrong. "But… _America's ass_."

With those two words it's clear to him. _Finally_. "I can't argue with you on this, can I?"

I feel smug as I take a bite of my tiramisu.

Edward looks suddenly shy. "I have another question."

I wink and take a sip of my wine. "Ask me anything, buddy."

He grins. "Is _Lust... _about me?"

And I spit my wine across the table.

"It's the one you talked about in your second confession, isn't it? The blasphemous one?" He takes his napkin and starts wiping up the wine. "I mean, I didn't want to assume…"

I think my cheeks are probably the same color as the red blotches on his napkin.

"Alec says it's the one that's gonna make me famous." I bite my lip. "And yeah. It's about you."

He eases back into his booth and crosses his arms, then smiles over at me like he just won something.

I cover my face. My cool flies out the window. I've wanted him since the first time I saw him and now he knows.

He doesn't take his eyes from mine as he scoops some of the cream from his cannoli with his finger, then sucks it between his lips.

I drop my fork and die a little inside.

"Your turn," he says. "Ask me anything."

"You like to think of ways to make me smile."

Edward clears his throat. "That's not a question."

"Would you tell me some of your ideas? I'd really like to hear."

He peers around the dining area like he wants to make sure no one's listening. Then he leans across the table and bites his lip a little before replying, "Take you to a show downtown. Catch a good movie. Avenger related, of course. Go dancing."

It's all sweet. It would definitely get a smile out of me.

"I'd probably tell you some corny jokes. And when I finally had you alone, I'd take off your top. Then your jeans. Finish what we started yesterday." His eyes dip, then catch mine again. He looks like he's itching for another confession. "There are so many other parts of your body I'd like to kiss."

My mouth is suddenly dry.

Edward sits back and casually sips at his wine like he didn't just strip me naked in his mind. "My turn to ask a question?"

Nervous laughter forces itself from my mouth. "I think you've earned it."

"Tell me about your tatt?"

"This one?" I ask, showing him A2's headstock on my forearm.

"No. The, um… the one I saw yesterday. After we… After _you_ took off your top." His eyes are smoldering. It's _the look_ times a million. I practically want to take off my top right here, in the booth.

I run a fingertip over my ribs and squirm. It's not exactly where I want to feel fingers at the moment. "They're all of my most important dates. The day I moved out. The day I became an aunt for the first time. The day Alec said he wanted to rep me. The day Mike called."

"Just those four?" he asks.

I shrug. "So far."

"Christ, there are going to be so many others."

And shit. _Fuck._ My eyes are suddenly a little glassy, because I wish just one of these was with him.

"Your turn," he says quietly.

"Tell me about yours?" I ask. I place a hand over my chest.

There's a bittersweet flicker of recognition in his eyes. "I got it after I took my vows. I was blitzed out of my fucking mind."

"Miller High Life?"

He chuckles. "I almost wish I hadn't told you that."

"It did factor into whether I came out with you tonight."

"And yet, here you are," he teases.

Yeah, I'm here. Snuggled into a red pleather booth at the back of Randazzo's with the best man I know. Despite my insecurities. Despite my past. Despite my fears I'm only thinking about myself. Despite the vows he had inked on his chest.

"Those words still mean something to you?"

"They do. They just…" He puts a hand over his heart. "It's why you left yesterday, isn't it?"

I look out at the water and wipe at the corner of my eye. Edward waits patiently. When I glance back at him, he looks worried. I am too. I'm worried about his soul.

"I know we joke about me being a demon or whatever, but I don't want to come between you and what you've got going on with God."

He reaches across the table to take my hand. "What I have going on with God is fluid."

I raise my eyebrows.

"It changes all the time. I'm learning _all _the time. So, what these words meant to me four years ago, mean something a little different today." He swallows. "Tonight."

"I just don't want to pull a Bella, you know? Barge into your life and make everything about me. Ruin everything. Ruin the most important thing."

"You couldn't possibly ruin anything. I still have free will. I think God would prefer it that way."

"Anything else for you two this evening?" Lauren asks. Edward and I drop our hands quickly, but Lauren doesn't say anything. This time she offers me a kind smile instead of flirting with my date.

I have a list of ideas, but I settle on asking for the check.

She hesitates before she leaves. "Thanks for your help back there, Bella." She nods toward the bar. "Some guys just can't hold their liquor, you know?"

"And then there are other guys who can't even handle leaving the house," I add.

Lauren laughs and looks from me to Edward. "I think whatever you did with her worked, Father. Bella was a godsend tonight."

Edward peeks over at me. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

xXxXx

Outside, it's quiet and a light mist falls from the sky. Edward takes my hand again as we head off toward Jane's. We walk slowly. I damn near stroll somewhere for the first time in my life.

I don't want the night to end. After all, Edward might go back to being a priest tomorrow.

I'm going to enjoy what I have. While I have it.

"What was Lauren talking about in there?" he asks.

"My future brother-in-law was doing what he does best - sleazing up the joint."

Edward's fingers flex and he looks me over. "Are you okay? Did he say something?"

"I'm fine, but do you _really_ think he should be marrying Angela?"

Edward sighs. "When I was at your parents' today, I realized I'm biased. Ultimately, it's not my call to make. I'm putting my faith in God."

Edward glances heavenward and gets a face full of rain. When he looks back at me, wet hair hangs over his forehead.

"That's a lot of freakin' faith. We're talking about Angela's life here."

"If faith was simple, it wouldn't mean anything."

He holds my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. My heart feels like it flip-flops in my chest.

"It doesn't make much sense, but it's hard not to trust you when you look at me like that."

"I'm not asking you to trust _me_, Bella."

"But I don't believe in -"

"Maybe you should try talking silently? To God? I'd never ask you to pray. That would be ridiculous."

I have a hunch I might try it later, just because he asked. I think Edward knows it too, but instead of making me admit it out loud, he just smiles. The rain picks up as we turn onto a side street. Edward wraps an arm around my shoulders and holds me close.

"When do you leave?" he asks.

"Sunday night."

He nods.

"Alec says things are about to get big."

He squeezes my shoulder. "What you've always wanted."

It's true. I want it so bad. But now I want one more thing - the man at my side.

We slow down as Jane's building comes into view in the distance. The rain's coming steadier now, but I don't mind. If we walk slow enough, it might take all night to get there.

"Is St. Mary's what you've always wanted?" I ask.

"I'm not sure _what _I want anymore." He almost sounds like he didn't mean to say it out loud. Then he turns to me and takes both my hands in his. "I know I want to be here with you. Right now."

"Me too," I admit. My heart flutters. The breeze blows some wet hair across my face, and Edward pushes it behind my ear. Little rivulets run down my back and between my breasts.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmurs as he peers into my eyes.

"Sure. Anything. You know that."

"It's more like a favor."

"Oh...kay…" I'm suspicious, but curious.

He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my open palm, before placing it over his chest. My fingertips run over the words inked under his shirt. I can almost see them clearly through the damp, threadbare cotton.

"If anything scares you again…" I feel his heart beating underneath my palm. "Would you talk to me about it? Instead of running away?"

I swallow. Talking about my fears isn't my strong suit. Asking me to talk to him about his relationship with God is like asking me to talk about ancient Mesopotamian farming techniques… in Latin.

"I'll try."

Edward smiles but doesn't look entirely pleased. "That's all I'm asking."

I rub my hand over his chest. "I'll _really_ try. Like I'll try really, _really_ hard."

"_Hard_?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Speaking of hard, I take a deep breath as I gather some of his t-shirt into my fist. "Can I still ask you anything?" I wonder as I stare up at him.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and sighs dramatically, like he's doing me a favor. "Fine, one more question."

I slide my hands over his broad chest, then squeeze his biceps. "Seriously, do you work out?"

He tries to look serious. "My body's a temple, Bella."

"Yeah it is," I agree, looking him over.

Just as I'm checking to see if the coast is clear for a kiss, the skies open up. Edward tries to shield me from the downpour with his body, but it's not going to work. Instead, I take his hand and we make a run for it. Our feet splash through puddles as we race the last block to Jane's place.

Once we're there, we huddle underneath the awning over the entrance. I shiver as I try to wring out my t-shirt.

Edward pushes wet hair from my cheeks and wipes raindrops from my forehead, before taking my face in his hands. Rainwater drips from his hair. His t-shirt is plastered to his chest. His tattoo is on full display.

"You're all wet," he murmurs.

He's right, but I don't think he has any idea what he's saying.

"Here." He pulls the black clerical shirt out from underneath his arm, then holds it up so I can thread my arms through. It's not entirely dry, but it smells like him, all soap and sandalwood. He fixes the shirt collar, smooths out the sleeves.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I could see everything," he tells me, pulling his shirt closed over my chest.

"What? you didn't want to?"

Edward's Adam's apple bobs. His knuckles skim over my breasts before his hands settle on my hips.

"One last question?" he asks.

I lean back against the bricks and look up at him. "I don't know. You might be all out of questions."

"As if you could resist me." His smile's a tad smug, but he's not wrong.

"Go for it," I tell him. I mean it in every single sense of the phrase.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?" The way he asks, it's like he already knows what I'm going to say. I freakin' love it.

I thread my fingers through his wet hair and pull his head to mine. Maybe he was expecting me to answer with words, because the kiss seems to catch him by surprise. But he relaxes pretty quickly and kisses me back. His hands move to my waist and I feel him fist my shirt like he wants to take it off again. Our lips part and it's like we're seventeen - before he wanted to be a priest. Before I left home. Before either of us had anything else pulling us apart.

Rain pounds on the awning above us almost as loud as my heart pounds in my ears. His hands are warm as they explore under the cover of his clerical shirt. Meanwhile, I cling to him, like if I hold on tight enough, I can make time stand still.

All good things must come to an end, though. Minutes, hours… maybe days later, he smooths my tee back into place and buttons his shirt over mine. When I glance around at the world beyond our awning, it feels like we're the only two people in all of Brooklyn.

But when I look into his eyes, I realize it's a little different than that. We're the only two people who matter.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Sleep well, Bella."

As if I could.

* * *

**A/N: A million thanks to SueBee, not only for fixing our grammar, but for being blunt about God and iPhone technology. This chapter and the next is better for it. Thanks to Chrisann for keeping on reading on, even when these chapters are at their messiest. **

**As Bella would say, Jo and I 'freaked the fuck out' a bit over this last chapter. This atheist maybe even talked silently. To God. About it. It's scary and exciting when characters start to change. Are you scared? Excited? Let us know in a review.**

**Until Friday ~ Marie & Jo **


	25. Chapter 24 Reconciliation

**Chapter 24. Reconciliation**

**Bella**

* * *

I slip into Jane's apartment, careful not to make too much noise as I turn the lock and click the deadbolt back into place. Safely inside, I lean against the door and try to catch my breath. Then I hold the collar of Edward's clerical shirt up to my nose, and take a deep breath. It's like I can feel his stubble against my cheek and his hands over my ass all over again.

Then a light switches on over the couch, and I see Alice sitting there with a mug of tea.

"Ohmygod!"

Alice's mouth drops open. "Is that… his shirt?"

"Were you waiting up for me?"

"Don't even try to tell me you were fellowshipping." She pats the couch next to her and grins.

I wrap my arms around myself like it might hide the truth as I make my way around piles of unpacked boxes. I take a seat as far away from my sister on the little couch as possible. It's not like I have anywhere else to go. Jane's couch is my bed at the moment.

Alice sips her tea but keeps her eyes on me, waiting patiently for me to say something.

"We got a bite. You know?" I hear myself explain. "Since I skipped pizza with you and Jane. Then it rained."

Alice arches an eyebrow. I stare at my hands in my lap and feel like I'm fifteen.

"Remember what I was saying about our family and secrets?" she asks. "Like just a couple days ago? And you said they were _all _out in the open?"

I glance at Alice. She nods her head in encouragement.

"Did you… did you, um... know that our sister... Rosalie's a _nudist_?"

Alice almost drops the mug in her lap. "What?"

I immediately feel bad. "Maybe not one hundred percent nudist, but she showed _everyone_ her boobs the other day. Me, Mom, even Mrs. McCarty."

Alice laughs. "Did she show you her ragged nipples?" We both shudder. I suddenly feel sick.

"Promise me you'll never show me your ragged nipples?" I beg.

Alice looks at me like I've lost my mind, and we both dissolve into a fit of giggles. I'm relieved she plans to keep her nipples to herself.

Eventually the laughter fades away though, and Alice stares me down again. She knits her brows and wags a finger. "You've got to be honest with me if you're staying under my roof, young lady."

Then she cracks just the hint of a smile.

I shrug. "It's actually Jane's roof, so…"

Alice sighs, frustration forcing its way to the surface. "I told you like my deepest, darkest secrets, Bella."

"Like hell you did. Jane is pure goodness and light."

Alice doesn't seem swayed. She waits quietly with her tea like this is a sisterly version of a sit-in. Then it occurs to me I have no idea why I'm holding back. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt I can trust my little sister with anything.

"Well... " I swallow. My phone vibrates in my hand. I glance down and it's a text from Edward.

**One more question?**

**K **\- I write back.

**Can I kiss you again sometime?**

My cheeks burn. My body aches. I think back to the things he said he wanted to do to me, back to our never ending make-out session. Then I glance at the bathroom door - wide open and inviting. The only privacy possible.

"Ahem." Alice clears her throat, and I stash my cell out of the way before I have a chance to reply to Edward.

"Spill, Bella."

I close my eyes and bow my head. "Iminlovewithapriest."

When Alice doesn't say anything, I open an eye and peek across the couch. Her mouth is hanging open.

"Alice?"

"You're, um… _what_?"

"I don't know what I am, but he's so fuckin' fine, Alice. And he's, like, so good. To everyone around him. To you, to our family. To the whole neighborhood. And he's such a geek. And he's funny. And the way he kisses..."

Alice jumps so she's practically kneeling on the couch. "Hold the phone, Bella. _Kisses_? Like you've kissed _Father Edward_? More than once?"

I nod my head. I fiddle with the edge of my tee shirt.

"What does this mean?"

All of the fluttering feelings in my chest fall to the pit of my stomach. "I don't know," I admit. "I just know I've never felt this way before. We've both tried to end whatever it is between us, but we each keep coming back to it. I think he makes me a better person."

Alice shakes her head. "Nope."

"He doesn't?"

"Nuh uh," she says.

Well shit, if Alice thinks I'm unsalvageable… "Like, you think I should walk away?"

Alice places her mug on the stack of books next to the couch, then takes my hand in hers. "You were always a good person, Bella. If anything, Father Edward just helps you see it in yourself."

For the first time in my entire life, I think back to a priest's homily. This past Sunday, Edward said that sometimes it's impossible for us to see the good in ourselves, and that it can get in the way of seeing it in others. He said there are good parts and imperfect parts in each of us, but it's all okay.

Alice beams at me from the other side of the couch. If I didn't know it before, after this trip home, I'm absolutely certain she's the best. And Jane's the second best, just behind Alice. Rose is better than I would have imagined. And maybe all this time there's been a little part of me that's good too.

"So, the real deal?" Alice asks "Like love love?"

I nod my head again. "I think so."

Alice squeals. I finally smile, and it's a relief to let my emotions show. Suddenly, I can't hide my smile even if I tried. My cheeks practically ache from smiling so wide. I feel its effects reaching up to my scalp and down to my toes. I tingle all over. My palms sweat. I wipe them on my jeans, and it feels like sparks should be flying everywhere I touch.

For a heady moment, I remember what it felt like when Edward's hands touched my bare thighs. How it might feel to have him touch everywhere else.

"Did you tell him?" Alice asks. My cheeks sting like they're on fire.

"Tell him what?"

"Did you tell Father, I mean _Edward_ that you love him?"

"Oh my God, no!"

"But why?" she groans.

"Well, first of all, he's a priest. Second of all, he's celibate."

Alice narrows her eyes. "Is he still?"

I cringe. "I think so?" I'm not quite sure where celibacy ends and kissing begins.

"Ha!" Alice laughs out loud. She covers her mouth and it looks like she has to put all her effort into keeping a straight face. "You and a freakin' priest."

"If any of us was going to besmirch a man of the cloth, it was probably going to be me."

"There are worse people you could love," she decides with a hopeful smile. "Father Edward's really wonderful. Like, a really nice guy. Through and through."

"He is. But…"

"But he's a priest," she says, finishing my sentence.

"Not to mention I'm leaving on Sunday."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have no fucking idea."

xXxXx

**Can I kiss you again sometime?**

I stare at the text as I cuddle underneath a pile of blankets on Jane's pullout. I try to think of an answer I can live with. I must start and stop texting a reply about five dozen times. Then I erase everything and start all over again.

**Are you going to keep me guessing?** He texts. **I never pegged you for cruel.**

**How do you know I'm still awake?**

**You've been drafting a response for the past hour.**

I giggle but then lower my voice. The walls of the apartment are paper thin. There are some things I'd prefer to keep private.

**I think I'm going to leave it up to you** \- I reply and hit send.

**I already told you what I'd like**

Yeah, he did. As we sat in a crowded restaurant, his eyes never left mine except to dip toward my chest as filthy words fell from his lips. I can't wait to settle into bed and think about it repeatedly.

**Then it sounds like we're definitely going to kiss again**

**Fuck** \- he texts.

I can't even bring myself to ask if it's back on the table. I don't think I could handle it if he said no, and I think I might burst into flames if he said yes.

**Nite** \- I reply instead.

**Sweet dreams, Bella.**

xXxXx

The next day, I wake to a good morning text from Edward and a million and one messages from my manager. Alec's lined up online interviews and call-ins to radio shows. He's hounding me for new pics and wants to talk about re-recording _Lust_. He's got updates on Mike and even lets slip that Jess headed back home for the time being.

"What does _that _matter?"

Alec laughs, probably because I sound so casual. Maybe because I sound sober. I sip at my mug of Raspberry Zinger and decide it needs another spritz of lemon.

"Yeah. Right." He chuckles. "Just thought you'd be interested to know."

"I don't care, Alec." I reply without thinking, but _holy shit._ It's the God's honest truth.

Sure, I feel a pang of embarrassment about the way I carried on, especially after things between me and Mike fell apart. But I'm excited to get out there and try to do better the second time around.

Glancing out at the cloudless blue Brooklyn sky, I thank God I even have a second chance.

_Thanks, God._

Alec lets it drop. Instead, he tells me how he's listened to all the tracks I've uploaded to Soundcloud this past week. Then he starts to get really worked up. He practically shouts with excitement as Alice and Jane walk over and around me trying to unpack the rest of my sister's belongings.

I hold the phone away from my ear and try to take my business to the bathroom, but accidentally trip over a pile of Alice's bible-themed Funko pops in the process.

Suddenly there's Raspberry Zinger everywhere - splattered over the floor, trickling down the wall, drenching a pile of paperbacks, running in rivulets down Jane's face and over her shirt.

I try to apologize. Jane smiles through clenched teeth as Alice vaults over boxes and dodges the unmade foldout to get some dishtowels.

The apartment is too small for the three of us. Especially when one of us is me.

After I help clean up, I clear out for the rest of the day and turn a table at a coffee shop into my office. By the time I come up for air, I've scheduled every waking minute of my life from the time I step off the plane Monday morning. I've never heard Alec sound this excited, at least not in a good way. Not while he's talking about me.

My stomach rumbles and I pack up and set out in search of a slice. And for God's sake, maybe a beer. As I turn a corner onto Bedford Avenue, I see St. Mary's in the distance.

I have an idea.

xXxXx

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been two days since my last confession."

Edward's laughter echoes through the church.

"You were _just _here."

"It's been two very long days. Plenty of time for a sinner like me to unleash my evil on the world."

"Fair enough." I see his silhouette leaning forward toward the grate. "Did you bring another list?"

"Didn't need one this time. I haven't been able to stop thinking about any of it. I couldn't forget it if I tried."

I think I see Edward run a finger under his collar like it's too tight.

"Tell me about it." He says it low, like he's afraid God is listening in.

I glance at the ceiling of the confessional. _Sorry in advance_. _Maybe you should cover your ears or something. _

Edward clears his throat. I'm not about to admit to him I'm praying again. Instead I take a breath and decide to tell the truth.

I drop to my knees so my lips are closer to the partition. "I've had impure thoughts about this guy who took me out last night," I whisper.

I think I hear a whispered 'fuck' but it's little more than a breath.

"Yeah. Exactly. I was up half the night," I admit.

"Me too."

Two words and my whole body tingles. I feel the tips of my nipples strain against my lacy bra.

I imagine Edward lying in bed thinking about me and I have to grab the little ledge underneath the partition for support. I know what finally got me to sleep and I wonder if priests do that too. At least the priest on the other side of this confessional. Does he touch himself and think of me?

"Your turn to tell me about it?" I ask.

Edward groans. "This is your confession, Bella."

"Fine, you tease. So this guy. I absolutely lo-" I catch myself just in time. "He told me he wants to get me naked, Father."

"It's not your fault he lays awake at night and dreams about worshipping you."

"He does?"

Edward slides to his knees so his face is inches from mine. I hear him sigh. "He does," he murmurs. "Among other things."

"Jesus -"

"- Christ," he adds.

The two of us sit for a minute, just kind of staring at each other's silhouettes. The church is really quiet. I can practically hear the statues of saints whispering to the Virgin Mother about us.

"Tell me something?" Edward asks, breaking the silence.

"You can ask me anything, Father."

"What are you wearing today?"

I laugh out loud. "What?"

"You asked me the same thing a week ago. Fair is fair."

I glance down at myself and try to think of a way to make it in the least bit interesting. "Nothing too exciting. Jeans, a black t-shirt. I've got my jacket tied around my waist. It was warm outside."

"Anything else?"

His shadow doesn't move at all. It looks like he's holding his breath. I know I am.

I'm about to describe my bra, but in a stroke of inspiration I have another idea. With a swivel, a clip, and a tug, I thread my arms through straps and let it drop into my waiting hand. Then I hold the black lace up so maybe he can see. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Edward's forehead falls against the screen, and I hear something like the rustle of fabric and a strangled growl. It makes the confessional vibrate, or maybe it's just me shivering. Little copper hairs push through the grate. I run my fingertips over them before brushing them with my lips so they tickle.

"What're you doing after this, Father? Want to get out of here?"

His office is just through a door and down the hall. His desk is surprisingly accommodating. Not to mention, there's a whole world outside the doors of St. Mary's.

"I can't." He sighs. "I have dinner with Jasper and the deacons." He sounds devastated.

"Stupid, sexy, tease."

"Rain check?" he asks. He lifts his head. His fingers press against mine.

"Text me tonight?"

He chuckles. "It's not like I'll be sleeping."

"Maybe I could let you in on what, um, I do to get myself to sleep?"

"Fuck." The word hangs in the air between us.

My legs feel a little weak as I stand and shove my bra into my jacket pocket. "Later?" I ask. "Like later, later. After Alice and Jane are asleep. I can text you."

"I'd like that. A lot."

The church is empty when I step out of the confessional. Slanting rays of the setting sun shine through stained glass. I slip my arms into my jacket because it's easier than trying to put a bra on in the sanctuary. As I make my way toward the exit, I linger near the votive candles flickering at the feet of the Virgin Mother. And, for a fleeting second, I think about kneeling and asking for help. Because what the fuck am I supposed to do with these feelings for a priest?

"What the fucking fuck, Mary?" I whisper as I bow my head.

"Sure sounds like a prayer to me," I hear from just behind me.

I spin around to find Edward grinning down at me. His eyes sparkle like the stained glass overhead. He peers past me, then glances over his shoulder. Before I can ask what he's doing, he takes the back of my head in his hand and pulls my mouth to his. His lips part as a hand slides around my waist, then up my back and underneath my shirt.

His thumb grazes the side of my breast and it's not enough. Not even close. I try to press myself into his hand, but it's gone before I'm even sure it was there.

I whimper into his mouth.

"Later?" he asks, half panting, his forehead resting against mine.

My eyes flit from his face to the bulge in his pants and back. "Looking forward to it."

And with another quick kiss, I get the hell out of there, because wooden pews have never looked so inviting.

xXxXx

I stumble out into the world and shield my eyes from the rays of the setting sun. It's all too bright. I'm too turned on. I don't even remember where I was headed before I was sidetracked by confession and a kiss.

A shadow falls over me. "Alice said I might find you here."

My heart skips a beat as I turn around to see my dad standing there. He's got a hardhat in one hand and a tool belt hanging from his hips. A hopeful smile on his face. "I believed her too. It looks like you might be double Catholic after all."

"Alice?" I ask.

My dad grins. "Finally called me back. Even coming over for dinner tomorrow."

"Did she tell you about -?"

"She says her new place is kinda small. Nice of her friend to put you up. I was worried about you two."

Dad looks me over from head to toe and I tug my jacket closed. He doesn't need to know I'm not wearing a bra. Then I stuff my hand in my pocket just to make sure he doesn't figure out where it ended up.

"Guess you were right. I _am_ just like Great Aunt Sylvia. Hanging out with priests on the daily."

"You know she was a musician too?" he asks, as I fall into step beside him.

"Yeah?"

"Played the organ for church choir. She liked hymns. Maybe not exactly the way _you_ like 'em."

I glance up at my dad, but he's looking off toward gulls circling over the water.

He's heard _Lust_. I'm bowled over that he found me online. At the same time I'm scared to death about what he must think.

"You're not what I expected," he says, still looking toward the bay. "Never were."

"Trouble," I offer. "A mess. Sorry."

"Your mom and I thought we got all the kinks out with Rose. But that girl was just born to please us. You came along and we saw the truth - we didn't know what we were doing. It's a hard thing to come face to face with."

Dad won't look at me. I'm still kinda mad at him, but I wish he'd wrap his arm around my shoulders like he usually does on our walks after work.

"I wish I was better for you, Bella. I fall fucking short again and again. I shoulda' stuck up for you the other night with your mom and Angie."

"Dad, you don't ha-"

"But you need to go easy on the booze," he says, talking over me. "You're still a kid. And your liver's gotta hold out long enough for you to tour."

I roll my eyes "It shouldn't take long to tour _Brooklyn_. I think my liver can deal."

Dad smiles down at me. "With that voice like yours, I can't be selfish. I can't keep you here as much as I want. I'll try to figure out how to let you go and be supportive at the same time, okay?"

"Mom's not gonna like it."

"Your mom's had some time to think." Dad nods across the street, and I see her sitting on our front steps, clutching a wine glass in her hands. She's not usually one to drink before dinner.

What about _her _liver?

"I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted, Dad," I tell him in all seriousness.

"You're better. Something I didn't know I wanted 'til I had it."

He wraps his arms around me and holds me so tight that I can barely breathe. So hard that he lifts my feet off the ground a couple of inches. When he lets me go, he pretends he doesn't see a lacy black strap hanging out of my pocket. I shove it back in place and let him take my hand and lead me through the front gates toward Mom.

She presses her lips together as I get closer. I feel her eyes zero in on my chest like she knows about my undergarment situation, even through the jacket. She always knows. Mom stands up as we get closer. I'm grateful Dad's still holding my hand. I wasn't prepared to argue this evening, especially not about underwear, but at least he's got my back.

Dad squeezes my fingers for reassurance.

"Hey, Mom," I say and brace for disapproval.

She places her wine glass on the cement step besides her like she's getting ready for an all out brawl.

Then she takes a step in my direction.

And gives me a hug like she's making up for lost time.

* * *

**A/N: Who knew writing a love story about a priest would cause so much personal angst? Who knew? Neither of us are religious, but we've been awake nights debating things like lotion, for the love of God. So next week we're giving ourselves a break and will only be posting one chapter. **

**You can find us in the dark, dank box praying our own versions of "What the fucking fuck, Mary?"**

**Thanks again to Suebee for warning us away from dangerous technology. And to Chrisann who can see the diamond when it's still in the rough.**

**We thank Father Edward's pretend boss for your love and reviews. You can always find us on fb or Twitter where we are having entirely too much fun while the world burns down around us. xoxo ~BDC**


	26. Chapter 25 You Up?

**Chapter 25. You up?**

* * *

**11:37pm Wednesday Night….**

**...**

**BellaSwan:** Hey, you up?

**FrECullen: **Definitely up

**BellaSwan:** You don't say _***eggplant emoji***_

**FrECullen:** I'm laying here thinking about you, so…

**BellaSwan: **About how much you like my confessions?

**FrECullen:** As much as I love your confessions, no

**BellaSwan:** Tell me what then?

**FrECullen:** …

**BellaSwan:** Edward?

**FrECullen:** I'm thinking about…

…

…

**BellaSwan:** Edward?

**FrECullen:** Your breasts

**BellaSwan:** ...

...

…

**FrECullen:** Bella?

**BellaSwan:** I just about died when you didn't touch them today

**FrECullen:** Welcome to my world

**BellaSwan:** Let me see it?

**FrECullen:** Um… what?

**BellaSwan:** LOL I meant your world. Let me see your bedroom?

**FrECullen:** There's really not much to look at

**BellaSwan:** There's you

…

…

**FrECullen wants to Facetime…. **

With a tap of my finger I'm staring back at Edward's shy smile. A plain white t-shirt stretches across his chest.

"Hey," I whisper. I don't want to wake up my housemates since I'm in their living room.

"Hey." Edward stands up. "So... this is it." He starts showing me his room. It's pretty plain. The walls are white. A crucifix hangs over his bed. There's a mirror over a chest of drawers. He very nonchalantly closes the door as he walks that way.

His clerical clothes are folded over the back of a chair. There's a pile of rosary beads on his nightstand, along with a bible.

"See?" he says as he plops back down onto his bed. "Nothing exciting."

He turns the phone's camera back on himself, then puts a hand behind his head as he lays back onto his pillow.

"I completely disagree." I tell him. I could look at him for days and never get bored.

"Would it be out of line if I said I wish you were here?" He looks like he almost feels bad for saying it.

Almost.

I'm probably going to Hell because the things I'd do to him in that rectory… "You'd have to promise to finally touch me."

His brow lifts. "Seems like I already have. A lot."

"You mean when you…" I circle the outline of my boob over my tank top. "It wasn't enough by a longshot." I run my thumb over my nipple for emphasis.

"Fuck," he says, but he's not meeting my eyes. He's watching me touch myself. And it's fucking hot.

"Maybe not," I say with a shrug. I let my hand drop.

He peeks up at me again and shakes his head. "You don't have to stop."

I giggle, but remind myself I need to be quiet. I glance at Alice and Jane's door but don't hear anything. Then I look back at the screen, at Edward biting his bottom lip.

"K…" And I slip my hand underneath my tank. My nipples are ready and waiting. I need to keep them a safe distance from my phone. I think they're hard enough to cut glass.

Edward closes his eyes, his head tilts back some, then he looks at me again. "You know I'm probably not very good at this, right?"

"I completely disagree." I prop my phone between my knees so both hands are free. I wish they were free to touch him.

"Is it normal to be jealous of someone's fingers?" he asks. Then he sighs as he rubs his hand over his face. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say here."

"Say you'll touch me again. Please." I'm begging. _Jesus_.

"Christ," he whispers, like he can hear my thoughts. "I'd do anything you ask, Bella."

"You'd put your hand down my pants if I asked? I'm not wearing any by the way." I tip the screen so he can see my cotton panties, then tip it back up toward my face.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

It's definitely not my intention.

"Do you want to stop?" I ask him.

He looks like he's thinking it over. He definitely looks a little nervous. Then he narrows his eyes - and _I'm _a little nervous. When he smirks I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'd put my hands down your pants. I'd pull them right off. If you asked nicely."

"Mind if I pretend?"

"I wish you didn't have to." He's damn near breathless. It's sexy as fuck.

"Yeah, me too. I want a big bed and nothing but me and you. Like nothing. No phones, no clothes. Nothing but time," I tell him as I slide a hand beneath the edge of my panties.

He brings a fist up to his mouth and bites down. Then adjusts his phone so he's not holding it anymore.

"Take off your shirt?" I ask. "Please?" My fingers graze between my thighs, teasing.

Without hesitation he sits up and pulls the tee over his head. His biceps flex and his hair's dishevelled. His tattoo dances as his pecs ripple. It's actually pretty easy to let my eyes glaze over the words permanently etched on his chest. No need to read at the moment.

Chastity can chill the fuck out for the night.

"Better?" he asks and gives me the fucking look as he lays back down.

"Jesus," I groan. Or pray. One or the other. Doesn't matter.

"Now you," he says. It's not a question. It's more of a command.

"Now what?" I ask, like I have no idea what he means.

"Fair is fair, Bella." He quirks an eyebrow and nods at my chest.

"Oh," the word falls from my lips. I swallow and glance at Jane's bedroom door. Then pull the blanket up over my knees just in case I need to hide at a moment's notice.

He waits there, still smirking. His eyes look so cute and hopeful. I stall a few seconds just to keep him guessing. But it's killing me. I grab the edge of my tank and pull it over my head.

It sounds like Edward hisses. When I glance back at the screen his lids look heavy. His hazel eyes look more black than green.

"Bella?'

"Yeah?"

"Touch yourself again?"

As if he had to ask. I cup my boob and pinch my nipple, rolling it between my fingers. My other hand's back beneath the waistband of my panties. I watch Edward's jaw flex. I watch the rise and fall of his chest. In some distant part of my brain I worry I'm the only one who's going to get anywhere.

So I look him in the eye. "Do you?" I ask. "Ever?"

"Do I….?" He looks confused. He also looks like he's trying not to smile.

_Jesus_. He's playing. I cover my tits with my arm. "You're going to make me say it?"

"Absolutely."

"And here I thought _I _was the evil one."

Edward chuckles a little.

"Do you, um, touch yourself?" My cheeks feel like they're on fire. After everything I've done in my life I've never felt as exposed as I do now.

He quirks an eyebrow. "Full disclosure?"

"Oh my God! Yes. _Please_." I laugh in frustration. I notice Edward glance at my boobs. And I slowly drop my arm and push my shoulders back just a little so the girls stand proud.

"You were saying?" I ask. He has to drag his eyes back to my face.

"Twice to Mariah Carey…. more than that since I met you."

I almost come just hearing those words from his lips. I actually have to stop moving my hand or I'll lose it completely. "Would you. Now?" I plead.

"I already am," he admits.

"Oh my God."

"It was kind of inevitable once you took your shirt off."

"Same," I say, appreciating the view. Trying to catch some kind of hint about what's going on past the edge of the camera.

His eyes close tight, like he's trying not to let himself get too carried away.

"Edward?" I breathe.

He opens them again. He licks his lips. He seems… determined.

I lick my fingertip then toy with my nipple, imagining it's his mouth.

"Jesus," he groans.

"Tell me what you'd do if you were here?"

His brow knits. His breathing is ragged. "I wouldn't let your fingers do all the work, that's for fucking sure."

I can't get enough. I could listen to his awkward dirty talk all fucking night.

"I'd totally take over for your hand." My voice is somewhere between a sigh and a low rumble.

"I want to feel you against me again," he says, and it's not even solicited. "I want to kiss every inch of your body, until you want more than just kisses."

"I want you here in person," I tell him. "I want to feel you on top of me. Inside me.

"Inside would be nice..." He's starting to lose it. "Fuck."

"Fuck."

"Bella."

I can't reply. Not with words. I bite down on my hand as I push myself over the edge. And I open my eyes in time to see his eyes closed tight, brows knit, biting his lower lip like he's going to draw blood.

"Christ," he mumbles. His chest stutters unevenly. Then rises and falls with a few deep breaths. And when he opens his eyes, he looks at me with raw, unguarded adoration.

He watches as I regain my composure, then smiles. "You're fucking beautiful," he huffs like he's been running miles.

"You too," I tell him, then fucking giggle of all things. His eyes are on my tits again. Christ.

He shakes his head, throws an arm over his face.

He laughs too. Completely relaxed. His body shakes.

The man has muscles for days.

"So, the other times… were they kind of like that?" I wonder out loud.

He lets his arm fall and looks me dead in the eye. "This was so much better."

And he looks like he's about to say something else, but thinks better of it. Instead, he just watches me sitting here topless, watching him.

I take another look at what I can see of his room in the shot.

"You still have my camisole?"

He reaches under his pillow and holds it up to the camera. "Is that what this is called?"

"I would have worn something more sexy Monday. If I knew…"

"I don't know, that flannel was pretty hot if you ask me. Still have my shirt?"

I reach over the edge of the bed, root through my clothes and thread my arms through the sleeves of his clerical shirt, then get the phone set up just right again.

"You're such a tease."

"Literally no one has ever called me a tease before." I pretend like I'm going to flash the girls, but then don't. Istead, I pull the shirt tight over my chest, so he can see everything but nothing at all.

"Their loss. You're really good at it."

I don't tell him I don't care about those other losses. I can't imagine teasing anyone else. I don't even want to think about it.

"Goodnight, Edward."

He gives me one last grin, a little more satisfied than he was when we started. "Night."

And the screen goes black.

"Love you," I whisper to the phone in my hands. Testing the words out.

I check in with God for a minute. And we agree it's best to keep them to myself for now.

* * *

**un-beta-ed... all mistakes c/o Marie & Jo**


	27. Chapter 26 Revelations

**Chapter 26. Revelations **

**Father Cullen **

Standing on the front porch of the Swan's home, away from St. Mary's and the rectory, apart from Jasper, even Bella, my mind settles along with the night.

My thoughts drift. They morph.

I doubt. I pray.

_I'm trying to understand this, God. Really, I am._

Wanting Bella the way I do, much less acting on those desires is against church beliefs. I know that. I took vows. And I meant them. But fuck, I can't get her out of my head. Or my heart.

_Jesus_. This should be complicated. I should be begging for God's forgiveness. But after everything that's happened between us the past few days, it doesn't _feel _complicated. Or like any of it needs forgiveness.

It feels more like I'm meeting her family for the first time and less like I'm their designated priest.

I almost think I'm here under false pretenses and maybe I should leave. But when Renee showed up at my office, asking for moral support as she tries to make things right with her daughters, I couldn't say no.

Not when she told me she searched her heart and sought Bella out. She may not have exactly apologized, but she did the best she could. It's a step in the right direction.

She even asked her to dinner tonight.

Which will make this the first time Bella and I have seen each other in person since we kissed in the sanctuary.

She's been busy helping Alice get settled, finding a place of her own to stay for the next few nights, dealing with her career. And I've had meeting after meeting, call after call. Including one with the diocese over in Italy about a tiny little parish the size of St. Mary's.

I saw her at confession _where she took off her bra_.

We've texted. And FaceTime was...

_Christ_, FaceTime.

Actually, maybe Christ should stay out of it. Because when I think about last night, some of the things we said… what we _did… _and how absolutely sexy she looks wearing only my clerical shirt…

It's the most blasphemous thing I've ever seen. And I'd give anything to see it again. In person.

My fantasy is abruptly interrupted and I nearly jump when the door swings open.

Charlie smiles wide. He's much happier than he was the other day and maybe a sheet or three to the wind.

"_Heeeey_, Father, come on in." He waves his free hand. The other holds a can of Budweiser. "Can I get you a drink? Renee's just getting everything ready."

Behind him, the house hums with the sound of a large family talking all at once.

I imagine Bella, somewhere in the middle of it all. I wonder if she's uncomfortable like the last time we were here together. I wonder if she's been drinking like the last time. Then I wonder if her hair's up or down. Is she all covered up, maybe wearing that flannel from the other day, or maybe just a tank top?

I try not to think about the bra.

I definitely don't think about her taking it off.

Now that I think about it, I could use a fucking drink.

"What's on the menu?"

"Wine," Charlie tells me as I follow him down the hall. Then he holds his beer up to me. "Bud, Bud _Light _if you like that kinda' thing." We round the corner into the dining room as he finishes. "Or something harder if you need it."

I spot Bella immediately. She's sitting at the far end of the dining room table, laughing at something that's just between her and Alice. Angela and Ben are just on the other side of the table, but Rose and Emmett's kids are running and jumping between them like a buffer.

When Bella looks up and sees me, her eyes nearly light up the entire house.

For the record, her hair's pulled back in a ponytail. The tatt is in full view and she's wearing the flannel again. I think it's on purpose. It's unbuttoned enough that I know she's not wearing a tank top. The jury's still out on a bra.

"Got any Bourbon?" I ask Charlie, unable to take my eyes off of his daughter.

He laughs and pats me on the shoulder before he nods to Emmett. It seems like he's the designated bartender for the night. "Em, get Father a glass of Maker's Mark will ya?"

"On it!" he hollers over the rest of the clan as he plays tug of war with his oldest. Liam's trying to bring a blanket and an enormous, plush Incredible Hulk to the dinner table. Angela and Ben don't think to help. They're too busy whispering. Angela seems anxious. Ben looks like he's five seconds from walking out the door.

Not that Emmett needs assistance. He shows off his multi-tasking skills as he starts to pour a drink while he scrolls through his iPhone with a child hanging from his belt buckle. Then he sets the phone down when Bella's hymn begins to play.

"Hey, have y'all heard this yet?"

I freeze. Bella's face turns white as the driven snow.

"Emmett!" She fights her way through the McCarty kids. They're not making it easy. One of the girls clings to her leg in a fit of giggles.

"What? My baby sis-in-law is the BOMB!" He turns it up and starts bouncing his hand to the beat. His middle son bops along with him, mimicking his every move.

"Oh my God," Bella groans. She looks over at me with an expression like she _really _wants to say she's sorry, but... she doesn't. _Thank God_. She shouldn't apologize. Emmett's right. She really is the fucking bomb.

"Emmett McCarty, turn that thing down," Renee commands as she brings out a huge bowl of pasta. He completely ignores her. Instead he picks up Liam and dances around the table with him.

I'm sure he's the only person in the world who could get away with not following Renee's orders.

Rose walks into the dining room with a baby in one hand, a platter of meat in the other. She shakes her head at her husband. But she's also grinning from ear to ear.

I struggle to make my way through the ocean of people, and when I finally come out on the other side, I smile down at the newest member of the McCarty clan. "He looks well."

"He's better than well," Rose agrees. "He's stronger every day. Thank you for everything, Father."

I shake my head because, really, she did all the work.

"Mama?" her daughter asks, tugging her skirt hard enough to almost rip it off. Rose nearly drops the plate she's holding and the baby.

"Want me to…?"

"Yes, please." She hands Patrick over. "I could use a few extra hands."

Jesus, he's adorable and weighs nothing. I cradle him as gently as I can because fuck if he isn't smallest human I've ever seen. I don't want to break him the first time I hold him.

"Hey," I whisper. "Remember me?" He looks like he's trying to place me as he blinks and scowls, followed by a big yawn.

When I look up, Bella's suddenly beside me. "Hi, Eddie. Hey, Buddy."

I try my best at Alice's Swan's patented side-eye because we've covered this. Kissing may be back on the table but calling me Eddie definitely is not.

It turns out, Bella's not talking to me.

"Eddie's the sweetest little thing. Isn't he?" She coos as Patrick grasps her finger. Then she looks at me and smirks.

"Did you really just call him _Eddie_?"

"What?" She keeps her eyes on the baby. "He loves it. And besides, you and I were fighting at the time…"

I have to laugh. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't _love _it, Bella." I grin back down at him.

"Maybe he's not as touchy as you are about his name."

"Believe me, no one likes that name."

"There's lots of great Eddies in the world, Edward."

Charlie gives Bella a questioning glance as he slides by us on his way to the living room.

"Like I was saying, _Father_," she corrects herself quickly. "There's Eddie _Money… _Eddie _Murphy… _Eddie _Redmayne._" She practically sings that last one. I make a mental note to Google him later.

"And don't forget Eddie _Vedder_... and Eddie _Van_ _Halen_." Bella giggles. "That's right. Eddie McCarty's gonna go places too. I know it."

I'm pretty scared this kid's nickname is going to stick. Being called Eddie is no laughing matter. Bella's mood is infectious though, so I shake my head and go along with it. Until I catch Alice smiling over at the two of us.

She looks like she has the world's biggest secret, which is saying something - she's been keeping a pretty big secret for years. Then three of the McCarty kids dive at her and knock her to the ground.

"Dinner's ready!" Renee calls and almost trips over the squirming, tickling pile of people.

"Alice!" she hisses, but then she catches my eye and tries to smile. "Would you and the children prefer to eat on the floor?"

Alice scrambles to her feet and rights the chair as Emmett corrals his kids the best he can. Rosalie brings a big gravy boat of marinara to the table and scoops Patrick out of my hands.

Bella is too close when I try to scoot past her. Her breasts brush my chest. Fuck. She's _not _wearing a bra.

I feel her breath against my neck.

I look down at her and it's all I can do to keep from pushing the hair off of her neck, leaning down, and kissing her. _Touching _her.

_Christ_. After last night, it's all I want to do.

"Have a seat, Father," Renee says as she rearranges dishes on the table so she can fit the casserole dish she's brought out. "I have you right next to Charles."

I feel a pang of disappointment that I won't be sitting next to Bella. Even more so when I notice the guy who strolls out of the kitchen holding a big basket of dinner rolls and casually taking the seat next to her.

"Jake, how are you?" I do my best to stay polite, but my smile feels forced. I'm not sure why. Bella's not interested. She said so herself.

I remind myself I'm still a priest. And that being…

Wait.

I'm jealous?

I'm jealous.

Of the man sitting next to Bella. The one her parents apparently love.

_Dear God, please give me the strength to control these emotions. _

"Doing well," he replies while he helps rearrange some dishes on the table for Renee.

Asking him to switch seats is probably too obvious. Right?

Fuck.

He's nice enough. Polite enough.

"Here ya go, Father." Emmett hands me my drink.

I almost feel bad for finishing it off in one fell swoop, but Emmett gives me a refill without asking. Then he sets the bottle of bourbon next to my glass with a wink. Before I can even say thanks, he's helping wrangle his kids into their seats.

_Bless him, Lord._

"Turn that thing off, Emmett," Renee warns her son-in-law with a nod toward his cell - the one playing _Lust _on repeat. This time he obliges with a playful roll of his eyes.

With everyone finally settled, Bella and I lock eyes. It turns out sitting _across_ from her isn't so bad. We can watch one another all night long.

"Would you say grace for us again, Father?" Renee asks.

Alice clears her throat.

Someone kicks me under the table.

And right, I'm going to have to look away.

"I'd be hap -"

"I'll say grace, Mom," Bella tells her mother, loud and proud. Angela's mouth falls open. Charlie chokes on his Budweiser. Emmett laughs and Rose elbows him, but Renee looks at Bella like she's seeing her for the first time.

I grin like an idiot. Then Bella's eyes flash to mine. And she gives me the most sinful smile I've ever seen.

_God, help me get through this dinner with half the self-control Bella seems to have. _

As she starts the prayer, her voice is soft, even, reverent. I've heard grace said a million times, but it's never sounded as beautiful as it does tonight. Goosebumps prick at my arms and along the back of my neck. I remember her at mass last Sunday, staring at me with intent. And I remember her looking up at me from my desk and across from me at the restaurant the other night. I remember the look in her eyes just before each and every kiss we've shared.

And last night.

"Amen," she says. When I look up, I have a feeling she hasn't taken her eyes off me the entire prayer. It's the same look she had right after I…

_Fuck._

"Amen," I reply. I think the rest of the family does too. I can't be sure.

Jesus. I never knew grace could be sexy.

"I thought this wasn't your thing, Bella?" Angela asks as she picks up the mashed potatoes. I let this one slide. There are worse things she could have said.

"Who's _thing _is it really?" Jake's trying to be funny as he nudges Bella with his elbow.

I'm not amused.

She ignores him as she helps her nephew put green beans on his plate. Then she sneaks a peek at me. "My relationship with God is fluid, Angela."

"_Christ_."

I could have sworn I only thought it to myself. Apparently not because all eyes flick in my direction.

But hearing my ideas about God from her lips stops my heart and breathes new life into me all at once. It's so overwhelming I'm sure everyone at the table can read the emotions on my face. Hell, I'm sure everyone in Sheepshead Bay could read the emotions on my face if they were here.

I do what I can. I take a drink. I pour another glass.

Angela saves me. "News to me," she says as she takes Ben's hand in hers. "But I guess a lot more things are out in the open these days." She leans in and looks down the table at me. "Thanks for encouraging Ben and me to be open and honest with Mom and Dad, Father."

I smile and nod at the seemingly happy couple.

"Wait," Renee scowls in my direction. "_You_ told her to tell us?"

I take another sip of my drink.

"I did."

Renee sets her silverware down carefully and folds her arms across her chest. She takes a deep breath like she's trying very hard to stay calm.

"Hey, Mom, this lasagna's fabulous!" Alice cheers. Renee can't be distracted.

"Why would you do that, Father?"

Bella's eyes go wide. Like she's worried… for _me_.

Panicking, I look over at Charlie for back-up, but he's making himself very busy with his food. So I face Renee alone, feeling like I'm about to be sacrificed at Mount Moriah.

"Wouldn't you rather know what's going on with -"

"No, Father, we wouldn't," she says, louder than before. "We're Catholic. We like our secrets in the closet where they belong."

Emmett's laughter booms through the dining room. Jake and Ben laugh politely. Charlie opens yet another can of beer.

I try to gauge Bella's reaction, but she's sharing a silent exchange with Alice, who does not look like she's in a laughing mood.

I think of all the secrets there must be at this one table, in this one house, in this small corner of Sheepshead Bay - Charlie's smoking, Alice's sexuality, Angela's pregnancy. All of the other secrets that are probably hidden.

Including Bella's and mine.

What if our secret came out at the dining room table?

_Christ_. What the fuck am I thinking?

"Bella." Renee clears her throat. "Your um… new song is… very nice."

Bella's eyes just about bug out of her head. Emmett's laughing all over again. Rose is nudging him again. The man is going to have quite a bruise.

"I mean, I don't need to know where you got the idea for those _lyrics_, but…" She tries hard to smile. "But the melody is very catchy."

Jake locks eyes with me. "I'd _love _to know where you got the idea."

"It was featured on _Pitchfork's _Best New Music list," Emmett tells everyone, proud of her.

"I don't even know what that is," Angela says. "Is that a big deal, or something?"

"Well, you've never heard of it. Think what you will," Bella says.

"Alice, honey, which hymn is it?" Renee asks, singling out her youngest daughter. "You would know."

Alice grumbles as she grabs the bottle of Maker's Mark. Renee's eyes go wide. Then she glares in Bella's direction.

"Adoro Te Devote," I say. Suddenly everyone's eyes are on me.

I clear my throat. "I… caught some of the words earlier. It's…" I glance over at Bella. "Latin."

"Well, she always did like hymns," Renee muses.

"I'm sure _Bella_ could tell you all about her song, Mom," Rose adds.

"Of course," Renee tells her oldest. "I'd love it if Bella told me about her music. For once."

Bella pushes away from the table. "I'll be right back."

Patrick starts crying and half the table focuses on the little guy. Renee hovers. Liam takes his shirt off like he's getting ready to feed his baby brother. Emmett and Angela take over feeding the rest of the kids. And Rose starts to unbutton her top.

I take advantage of the commotion to excuse myself. I have a feeling I know where I'll find Bella.

xXxXx

"Hey. You okay?"

Bella's leaning against the brick wall in her parent's backyard, staring up at the sky. She smiles but doesn't look my way.

She does when I take out a pack of cigarettes and offer one to her.

"Whatever I need. When I need it. Thanks."

She takes a drag and goes back to staring overhead.

"This is weird," she finally says.

"Should I go?"

She shakes her head and nods toward the house. "This, them… did you see my mother's face in there? It's like she's been abducted by aliens."

I laugh. "She's trying."

"Well it's freaking me the fuck out."

The two of us stand there, quiet for a minute. She stubs out her cigarette. I remember what she said about her mother, and I pick it up and slip it into my pocket. As I'm kneeling at Bella's feet she smiles down at me gratefully, and I have to touch her.

She leans back against the wall again as I stand. Her chest rises and falls. Her lips part just a little. I wish we had time to play a round of ask me anything because I'd really like to know what she's thinking.

"Remember the first night we were out here together?" It's like she can hear my thoughts.

Maybe we don't need the game anymore.

"Of course."

"We talked about sin," she says.

"We did." She doesn't move when I place a hand on her cheek. Or when I rub my thumb against her lips. Or even when I get lost in her eyes for a second... or ten.

"Does this count?" she asks.

And I know it's a bad idea with her family less than fifty feet away. But I lean in and kiss her anyway. It's soft. And slow. Because I need her to understand how much this counts. How much I missed this.

Missed her. _Us._

That this matters to me.

That last night was more than just a way to get off.

I hope the kiss tells her how fucking honored I am to have her in my life.

When our tongues touch I think, yeah, maybe she knows.

I pull away and the moon makes her skin glow. The breeze blows her hair.

I'm content.

"I've been dying to do that all night."

She bites her lip and smiles.

"Bella what are you -" someone calls out.

Bella and I spring apart. I look up and Alice is staring at us, frozen in shock.

My heart feels like it's beating a million miles a minute.

"My eyes were not prepared. I thought they were prepared. But they were not," she says and… hold on a second.

I glance over at Bella, pointing to her sister. "Did you-"

She wrinkles her nose. "Sorry?"

"Ha!" Alice laughs. "Drink." She hands Bella a glass of wine.

"You told her about the drinking game too?"

"What drinking game?" Alice asks innocently.

"What's everyone out here for?" Charlie wonders as he steps out into the yard. Then he sees my pack of smokes on the railing. "Can I get one of those?"

I think I'm about to pass out. There have been too many close calls this week for me to count.

"Don't you think you should take those to the garage?" Bella asks as I hand Charlie the Marlboros.

He shrugs and hands me a glass of… it doesn't really matter.

I take it and gladly down it in one shot.

Charlie peeks back inside as he lights his cigarette. "Just want to make sure Emmett doesn't catch us."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to piss off Emmett." Bella laughs. "He's such a nag. About smoking."

As Charlie savors his first drag, I eye Alice. Who's eyeing Bella. Who is _definitely_ avoiding eye contact with all of us.

Alice nudges her sister a little harder than necessary, and just as Bella's about to give her shit about it, the two of them start to have a silent conversation with sign language unfit for a priest.

"Yeah, well, I'm outta here," Alice says. "I'll leave you smokers alone."

Charlie nods as Alice leaves. He claps me on the back then he notices Bella standing by my side.

"You smoke?" he asks her. "Since when?"

She downs her glass of wine.

Shit. I could use another drink, too. I mean how am I supposed to hold a conversation with Charlie right now without giving myself away?

"I think I'll just…" I point toward the door.

As I make my way through the kitchen, I hear Charlie telling Bella, "I'm really glad you came tonight, baby girl."

"Me too, Dad."

Something makes Bella laugh. Charlie does too. Their laughter echoes through the backyard, mingling with the sound of traffic and seagulls.

It sounds like a happy home.

xXxXx

"Father!" Angela stops me before I can even make it to the dining room. I'm actually glad to get her alone.

"How are things?" I ask.

"Great," she just about shouts as she hands me a glass of wine. "I'm excited. _We're _excited." And she sounds like she's still trying to convince me. Or maybe she's trying to convince herself.

"You're still sure about Saturday, then?" I've put my trust in God, but I'm still his front man. "It's never too late to -"

"I'm totally sure." She laughs a little too loud. "Don't worry about me, Father. Ben's gonna be a great dad. Just like Emmett."

_Dear God, make it true. Because I'm not so sure._

"I just wanted to make sure you're still coming to dinner after the rehearsal tomorrow? 7:30 sharp. That's still okay, right?"

It's not exactly how I'd like to spend my Friday night.

I look into Angela's eyes and see how desperately she needs someone to be there for her. I can't in good conscience say no.

"Absolutely." I smile as three McCarty kids barrel between us.

One yells, "Avengers, assemble!" as they tear their way up the stairs. Another shouts, "I'm Captain America!"

I roll my eyes and wonder what kind of information their Aunt Bella has been feeding them.

It's quieter in the dining room without all the kids and with Patrick asleep in Emmett's arms. Bella and Charlie join us. Bella picks up Liam's stuffed Hulk out of a chair as she sits back down. She holds him out in front of her and sighs.

"Sometimes I wish they'd have kept Ed Norton as The Hulk. I loved him and Liv Tyler together."

I bow my head and sigh before taking her on. I think through my arguments. She can't possibly end this debate with Ed Norton's ass.

I try to stay calm. I take a sip of wine. "Ruffalo and Johansson though… they have better chemistry."

Bella rolls her eyes. "_Her _again? Really, Ed-... _Father_?"

"Again?" Renee asks as she sets down a tray of tiramisu.

"She plays Black Widow. Am I right?" Emmett asks, giving me a nod.

"_Please_," Bella groans. "We've been over this. Captain Marvel would kick her ass."

"Bella!" Renee scolds.

I can't hold myself back this time. "I guess it's easy when you steal superpowers from a nuclear reactor."

Bella looks me in the eye. "You think this is up for debate, _Eddie?_"

_This woman. _

I rest my elbows on the table and lean in. "Widow has _mad _ninja skills. She took on _eleven _Hammer security guys single handedly in Iron Man 2."

Jake tosses his napkin into the ring. Or rather, on to the table. "I think it was only ten. And Captain Marvel _is _indestructible." He shrugs. "Personally, I didn't get why she didn't take the infinity glove instead of Stark."

Jake gives Bella a reassuring nod. He might be a good man, but he's wrong about the Marvel universe. He's also a kiss ass.

Bella laughs and looks at me like she's been vindicated. "_See_?"

"First of all-" I give Jake a pointed look. "It was _definitely _eleven. And secondly" - I shift my gaze to Bella, sitting at Jake's side - "I can't even look at you right now."

And I finish the glass of wine.

Is it a little dramatic on my part? Maybe. But… seriously?

Alice snorts.

"Manners," Renee warns her youngest daughter.

Alice breaks into a fit of giggles. Her eyes start to tear.

"What's your problem?" Angela asks.

Alice looks from me to Bella as she tries to catch her breath. "You two are both the biggest geeks. You know that, right? Black Widow? Ten versus eleven _what_? Evil hammers?" She starts laughing all over again. Her whole body shakes.

Bella blushes and stares at her lap, but her sister's right.

Bella's called me a geek, but it turns out, she's one too.

She's called me a few other things, as a matter of fact.

She thinks I'm humble but has no idea just how amazing she is. She's called me hot. And sexy. And I've never thought she was more of both those things than right this minute, talking about the intricacies of the Marvel universe.

"You're-" I start to tell her. Until I remember all the people sitting around us, suddenly hanging on my every word. "Alice is right. You're such a nerd."

Bella laughs and conversations start up again. Angela tells us about the honeymoon she has planned in Mexico. Alice talks about her comparative religion class. Charlie shows me some pictures of boats he has saved on his cell. Emmett weighs adding an extension to their home against looking for something bigger in the same neighborhood.

"Speaking of which," Renee interrupts as she starts filling plates with slices of tiramisu. She passes them around and very casually asks, "Father, how do you feel about birth control?"

Charlie groans. "Emmett, get Father another drink. He's gonna need it."

"For the love of God, Mom." Rose rolls her eyes. Emmett sighs in defeat. I think Bella's holding her breath.

Jake whispers something in her ear. He's close. Too close, in my opinion. I can't help glaring when he touches her arm.

_Dear God..._

She doesn't seem uncomfortable until she catches me staring at her.

A pin could drop as I take a sip of the drink Emmett hands me. Of course, I know what Renee is talking about. Rose came very close to losing her life.

It's not Renee who needs to hear this though, so I very purposefully give Rose my undivided attention.

"It's your body Rose. The most important thing is that you're here with Emmett to help raise your family. Not evading birth control."

Bella sits back and stares at me wide-eyed.

"How can you say that?" Renee demands. "The Catholic church says -"

"The _Catholic church_ is run by men, Renee."

"But they say-"

"The church interprets the Bible their way. I interpret it mine."

I realize I've said it louder than necessary and harsher than intended. So I try to chill the fuck out. "And I don't think the church would want anyone putting their life in danger."

Emmett puts a protective arm around his wife and kisses her temple as he whispers something in her ear. A blush rises on Rose's cheeks. The moment seems so intimate that I feel like I'm invading their privacy.

I let my eyes wander over to Bella, who's already looking at me with a stunned smile on her face.

She mouths a "thank you"... and Christ. I wish I could put an arm around her. Kiss her like Emmett kissed Rose. Suggest we get out of here. Go to that big bed she wants to share.

Naked. With me.

I wait for the wave of guilt but it doesn't come. I try to tell myself this is wrong... but I can't.

Then I notice someone else is watching me and my eyes slide to the man sitting next to her. The man she had a date with. The man who's known her her whole life. The man who is taking her to the wedding.

Jake.

It's written all over his face.

He knows.

Fuck.

* * *

**A/N: SO.. for anyone who might NOT have seen it all over the internet yesterday: Midnight Sun is getting published, y'all... THIS IS NOT A DRILL... Our (imaginary) prayers have been answered by SM. **

***happy sated sigh* **

**In other news: Thanks to anyone who voted BOC one of ADifferentForest's Fic Dives of the month!**

**Thanks to Sue for putting up with us even when we think up micro chapters and try to put them out un-beta'd. To Chrisann for sprinkling holy water on them. To all the peeps in the Dark, Dank Box who share pics and make us laugh our asses off. **

**And thanks for reading this absolute abomination of a story. We love you for your support in making a priest want more than God in his life.**


	28. Chapter 26 and 3 Quarters Got Condoms?

**Chapter 26 ¾ Got Condoms? **

**Bella**

* * *

Rose takes me aside as the rest of her family heads to their minivan. I glance across the room at Edward deep in conversation with my dad and Ben.

"Bella?" Rose asks.

"Mm hmm?"

His eyes look a little glassy. I think he's on his fourth drink. Maybe his… _oh my god_, maybe his eighth? He's really into their conversation. Kind of gesticulating wildly. Dad's cracking up and claps him on the shoulder. Then Edward catches me looking at him and smiles.

I duck my head but can still feel his eyes on me.

"Bella!" Rose nudges me in the ribs just like she's been doing with Emmett all night long.

"Geez, Rose. What is it?"

She shoves something into my hands. Plastic unfurls, snaking its way to the ground, revealing a long sleeve of condoms.

"Jesus," she huffs, quickly folding it all back up again. "Way to be smooth, Bella."

"What the hell, Rose?" They're pale yellow and encased in clear plastic. Generic, like she's hitting up free clinics for me or something.

Rose looks me in the eye then glances over her shoulder to her very large family piling into their minivan. "Take it from me." Patrick's frantic cries can be heard all the way from the car.

"Dude, _I _know about birth control, Rose. You, on the other hand..."

I try to hand the condoms back.

"No. Really. Like, take these from me, please. I took your advice, but Em and I decided on an IUD when I'm ready. So _you_ should take these."

"Why me?"

Rose looks past me and I turn just in time for Edward to look away. He stares a little too hard at my dad.

"I know you guys showed up together at the hospital the night Patrick was born. I may be the good kid, but I'm not dense."

"It's not what you -"

"Keep telling yourself that. But hold onto these just in case." She takes the condoms from my hand and drops them into the pocket of my hoodie. "I mean, you're probably going to need them more than Alice, right?"

"Wait, what?"

"I'm the good kid. I'm not dumb." She nods toward Alice who's smiling like a lovesick fool as she texts someone. "Jane's nice, isn't she?"

I narrow my eyes. "Jane's great. They're so young, though."

"Em and I were barely twenty when we got hitched. It could work."

Suddenly, Edward's standing in the doorway holding Liam's stuffed Hulk in my face. "I think someone left this behind."

"Would you mind bringing it out to him, Father?" Rose asks.

Edward jogs down the steps. He only stumbles once. Not bad, considering his likely blood alcohol content.

"He's no Father Volturi," Rose says.

I hum. "Not even close."

I help Rose gather all her family's stuff and some leftovers from Mom. When we look back toward the street, Edward's half in and half out of the minivan.

"... and that's why Iron Man is so much better than Captain America."

"Can I just have my Hulk, Edward?" Liam whines.

"Yo, that's Father Edward to you," Emmett corrects his son.

"Edward's fine," Edward tells my nephew.

"Yeah, he is," I whisper under my breath.

"It's a stupid rule anyway," Rose says. "A man that _fine_ should be allowed to have sex. The way he gets so worked up when he gives his homilies..."

My mouth drops open. Rose just laughs. "Come by and hang out with Eddie before you leave?"

"Eddie?" Edward asks, meeting us back in the doorway. He holds onto the wall as he stands next to me. He's trying to be all casual, but I'm an old pro. I think he's trying to hold himself upright.

Rose's blue eyes twinkle. "If we called him Edward, we'd always be getting him confused with Bella's priest." She winks at me.

"But his name is Patrick," Edward insists. Rose waves to us both as she walks down the front steps.

"So, Eddie it is," I say, rocking on my heels. Feeling proud.

"Poor kid."

I surprise myself because I completely disagree. Eddie's got a solid family, a decent mom and dad, an army of siblings to look out for him. Two thirds of his aunts would do anything for him. Eddie's got it made in the shade.

"It looks like I'm going out for a drink with your dad and Ben. Emmett too, maybe," Edward tells me.

"What?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I felt like I had to say yes."

"I'm sorry?"

"Drink," he says as he pushes a stray hair behind my ear. He looks like he really wants to kiss me.

"I've had enough. You too, maybe?"

"Not if it's up to your dad." He chuckles. "Your family can _really _hold their liquor."

I try to think of something witty to say. Anything really. Anything at all. Because the stuff going on inside my head is crazy.

Like, I want Edward to drink right along with my dad. And I want to be there to watch. Any random Thursday. Sunday after mass. That kind of thing.

"I like your dad," Edward's saying. "Emmett too. Ben on the other hand… Has he apologized to you?"

"For what?" I ask.

He huffs. "Lord, help me." He looks up toward the ceiling. He sways a little, and I grab his arm just in case he's in danger of falling.

"What about Angela?" Edward asks, his hands actually balling into fists.

"She mentioned she needed to talk to me before I head out, but I'm hoping to avoid it. Less is more when it comes to Angela."

Edward takes a deep breath, like he's trying to calm himself down. Then he takes both my shoulders in his hands. He smooths my shirt. He looks like he's thinking. Debating. For a second I'm sure he's going to hug me, right there in front of Ben and my dad.

"Stay and hear what they have to say. Okay?"

"But I kind of hate them."

"But you deserve better, Bella."

I know he believes it. Standing here with him, I believe it too.

"If you say so."

"Trust me?"

"I do."

_I do._

I want. I trust. I love.

All of it.

Butterflies flutter in my chest.

Edward seems lost in his thoughts. Maybe I am too.

I'm caught somewhere between the way he looked on Facetime last night and how I would love to be able to kiss him right now. I'm lost between the words 'I do' and how it's going to feel when I head back out on tour Sunday night.

Or maybe I'm just lost whenever he's near me.

"Bella, I-"

"Yo, Edward… I mean Father." My dad laughs. "Come on. Ben's meeting us later. Em's coming after he puts the kids to bed."

"So Dad and the boys, huh?" I ask.

Edward shrugs. "Did you have other plans?" His eyes twinkle.

"As a matter of fact."

I'm prepared. I take the little piece of paper I've kept rolled up in my pocket and slip it into his waiting hand.

* * *

**A/N: This tiny little snapshot wasn't part of the original story, but it popped into our minds and we couldn't shake it. It didn't fit in with the other chapters, but felt too sweet to keep all to ourselves... And that's how Chapter 26 ¾ was born. **

**Thanks for the reviews, tweets, facebook discussions, fan art, DM's, and all the love. They keep us smiling in the face of death. Like literally. **

**Thanks to SueBee and Chrisann for dealing with ¾ chapters and writers who fly by the seat of their pants.**

**See you around next week with another full-length chapter. Stay safe - we want you all with us until the end (of the fic). **


	29. Chapter 27 Canticle

**Chapter 27. Canticle**

**Father Edward**

* * *

The Uber I miraculously ordered comes to a stop and jolts me awake.

I look out the window, blinking a few times. "Are we here?"

"It's the fucking address you fucking gave me." The driver shoves the tiny piece of paper I gave him into my chest. "Next time just put the right fucking address in the fucking app, asshole."

Sure, he's gruff and apparently angry, but I give him five stars anyway. He got me here.

"Christ be with you," I tell him with a sloppy sign of the cross. I stumble a little as I get out of the car, and it takes a hot minute to find my balance.

Jesus. How many rum and cokes did Charlie buy me, anyway? I lost count after three. Then there were the shots Billy Black sent over.

Fuck.

The chilly sea air helps wake me up, and I realize I'm right on the water. Just a few miles from home, but somehow worlds away from St. Mary's.

I know I'm in the right place when I see Bella. She's in a chair on the front porch of a small cottage. It's one in a long string of identical houses lining Manhattan Beach.

She's wearing the flannel I love. Her feet are bare. Her hair's down. And she's smiling like she's really fucking happy to see me.

Which is good, because I'm really fucking happy to see her. Talking childhood stories with Charlie and high school stories with Emmett at the bar tonight - she's been on my mind the entire time. And now … here she is.

She's so much better in person. She looks like an angel, all easy smiles and beautiful blush.

_Lord, thank you for Bella. _

"Hey." I smile when I get to the door. It takes me longer than I would have thought. My feet feel really heavy.

"I wasn't sure you were coming."

I hold up the miniature scroll she gave me when we left her parents' house. "When you give me pieces of paper, I do as I'm told."

Bella grins. "Good to know."

"You look amazing, by the way." I tug at the collar of her shirt "You wear this on purpose?"

"A shirt?" she teases. "Totally on purpose."

"You know how I feel about flannel." I rub her sleeve.

"Shit, and I went and left all my flannel lingerie in LA."

"_That_… is a shame." The railing looks like a good place to lean against since the ground is definitely slanting underneath my feet.

"Here, let's get you inside," Bella says, taking me by the hand. I remember the first time she ever did it - the night we saw Emily Young. I was hesitant and guilt ridden. Now it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Your dad, by the way? Great guy. I'm pretty sure he got me trashed tonight."

She looks me over with a critical eye. "He _definitely _got you trashed. I should have warned you."

I try to smile. "Sneaky bastard."

"You know he apologized to me?" she says as she guides me into the house.

"No shit." I'm even more impressed with the guy than I was before. "Go Charlie."

The place is tiny inside. A whole cottage crammed into just one room, with a fantastic view of the ocean straight ahead through a wall of windows. I spot her guitar sitting on top of a… Holy shit, that's a king sized bed, daring me not to notice it.

It's just like the one Bella said she wanted.

_Nothing but me and you. No phones, no clothes. Nothing but time._

I should probably pray to God for the strength to steer clear of the bed.

I don't.

"Where'd you find this place?" I pull my jacket off and toss it toward a chair.

It misses. By a lot.

Bella hangs it on a hook just inside the doorway while I kick off my shoes.

"AirBnB. Alice and Jane could use some privacy_. _And, um, me too. You want a drink?" She lets my hand go and heads for the refrigerator.

I fall down onto a huge sectional in front of the windows. _Thank God for sofas. _"Got any rum?"

"I was thinking more like Raspberry Zinger."

"Zingerrrrrrr. That's a funny word."

As she putters around the kitchen, filling a kettle rifling through drawers, she hums a melody I can't put my finger on. It's the closest I've been to hearing her sing. Meanwhile, I become one with the couch.

When she turns around she stops short. Her expression goes from playful to worried.

"What's wrong?"

Without even thinking about it, she's kind, caring, and so fucking hot.

_Jesus, she's perfect… for me. _

_She's perfect for me._

I look her over, head to toe. Bare feet, bare legs. She may be wearing shorts, maybe not. The flannel covers too much to tell for sure. I realize for the first time since I got here… it's just me and her. No Jasper. No house full of kids. No Alice and Jane.

"Edward?" she asks. Shit, I haven't answered. "Is something wrong?"

"Not anymore."

She swallows and blushes as... I'm... ogling her, so I find something else to stare at. A notebook is open on the coffee table. I see '_Lost in -'_ written at the top of the page. Bella rushes over to close the journal and tosses it onto the bed.

"So how was it?" she asks. "Going out for drinks… With _Charlie_?"

I lean my head back and close my eyes. Just for a minute. "I always wondered what having a family would be like."

"You coulda' just asked. It's a real pain in the ass." She laughs a little, but there's something different about the way she says it. It's like she doesn't entirely believe it anymore.

I open my eyes again to look at her. "It's pretty fucking awesome, if you ask me. But I'm biased. It's _your_ family, after all."

"You think _my _family is awesome?" she asks, handing me a mug of fruity tea. Sadly, I don't think she's added the rum I asked for.

"God yes. They're raw, and real… and Charlie is fucking hilarious. Did you know Emmett saved a guy from drowning in his own swimming pool?"

Fuck. My tongue is numb. Did I say that right?

"You really _wanted _to hang with them." It's not a question. It's like she's just realized it. She tucks her feet underneath her on the other side of the couch, warming her hands on the mug.

"They made me feel connected." In ways I never knew I was missing until tonight. I thought all I needed was God and maybe Jasper.

"Oh, they bring out all kinds of feelings, that's for sure. They're better when you're around. I need to start taking you to all my family functions."

I have this flash of it in my head - going to birthday parties, buying gifts. Graduations, holiday gatherings. And being there for all of it… with her... as more than a priest. More than her friend.

"What would Jake say?" It comes out before I can stop it.

Fucking alcohol.

Bella's eyes go wide. She sips her tea. I'm sure the last thing she wants is for me to interrogate her about who she takes to what functions.

"It's really none of my business, I'm _ssss_...so not sorry." I point at her as I laugh. She almost had me there, but it's true. I'm not sorry. I really want to know.

"He thinks you like me." She bites her bottom lip as she peers over her mug in my direction.

I sigh, remembering the look he gave me at the end of dinner. He's not wrong. "I was a little too obvious tonight, I guess."

"I think he's a little jealous."

And I laugh. And laugh. And fucking laugh. "Of a priest?"

"Yeah, it's probably really pissing him off."

"Well, touché then, _Jake_." I take a sip of the tea. Fuck. My head is spinning. I don't know if it's from the copious amounts I've had to drink, or because I'm here. Alone. With Bella. With that big fucking bed about five feet away, s_creaming _for me to take her over there and… fuck.

Also… _fuck._

Bella catches me glancing at it.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, buddy. I don't have any expectations." She peeks over at me again. She's blushing. Again.

"Neither does God, apparently." I chuckle and sip some more. Because _where for fucking art thou, God? I keep asking you what to do but you just … ignore, ignore, ignore. _

I look over at Bella, sitting there, looking so damn divine. "When you blush like that, I really want to kiss you."

"I thought you were going to kiss me when we said goodbye tonight."

"You have no idea the amount of prayer and self control it took not to."

"There's no one here now though."

She puts down the mug of tea on the coffee table.

I follow her lead and set mine down too.

"Can I still ask you anything?" I smile because I already know I can. And I know she'll answer. I just like seeing her reaction. I just like her. So fucking much.

She kicks my thigh with her bare foot. "What is it?"

I narrow my eyes. Or… I try to. Maybe I'm squinting? "You don't _really _prefer Marvel over Widow, do you?"

"We've been over this a million times. My answer's not going to change, no matter how many times you ask."

"Yeah, but Widow… she's the one you gotta root for. She's the black sheep, the outcast, you know? Just like…"

"Like me?" Bella pulls her foot away, but I reach for her ankle, and pull it into my lap.

"No! I'm strictly talking Marvel here. Most of those Avengers, they've had it so easy, brought up to be the _good guy_, have all the right tools, make all the right choices, but not her. She's more like-"

"Loki!" we both say.

Bella's face lights up. "He's the best. And the worst. He's just -"

"Right? You've just got to root for the guy."

She narrows her eyes. "Edward? Did we just agree on something Marvel-related?"

"I think we did."

I'm smiling like a fucking idiot, and she's too far away.

I'm not sure I can still walk, so I find myself kind of crawling over to her from my side of the couch. I try not to fall off the fucking thing as I do it.

Bella looks surprised and her eyes glitter. Her limbs unfurl underneath me, like she's been waiting for this. I have been too. I just didn't realize it until this very minute.

Before I know it, I'm hovering over her, trapped in those eyes like I've left one plane of existence and entered hers.

"Do you _want _me to kiss you?"

She nods her head. "So far, the answer's always yes. I always want you to kiss me."

"Yes is good." I brace myself above her. "So, you like Loki?"

She laughs. "Absolutely."

"And Cap, and Captain Marvel, and…. Ed Norton for some ungodly reason?"

"Um… yeah."

"You know what you are, Bella Swan?"

"A girl who's dying to be kissed?"

"You're a sexy..."

I dip my head enough to meet her lips. Just barely.

"Talented..." I kiss the corner of her mouth. She whimpers. I grin.

"Humble..." I graze her neck and feel her heartbeat.

"Geek..." I nibble just below her ear.

"Just like me," I whisper.

And fuck. At first, I think that's all I can give her. It's more than I _should _give her since I _am _a priest. And priests have rules.

_Stupid_.

Fucking.

Catholic.

Rules.

But then I kiss her again. And again.

When our lips part, her hands slide around my waist. It's enough to tip me over the edge of reason. I relax my arms so I'm pressed flat against her body. When I find the hem of the flannel, I slip my fingers underneath until I feel her skin. And then her breast.

She arches her back into my hand. Her nipple hardens. I pinch it like she did the other night. I try my best to mimic what I watched her do to herself. I try my best to be smooth, despite what she's doing to me.

She sucks in some air and wraps a leg around me, pulling me tighter against her.

"Fuck," I breathe.

Bella sighs heavily beneath me. Her breath is fruity, intoxicating. She holds my head in her hands. She grabs at the hairs on the nape of my neck, and I want my lips on her. Every-fucking-where.

My attempt at smooth goes out the window.

I fumble with a button. Then two. And when I get to three, she grabs my hand.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

I swallow. Am I sure?

Christ. I know I'm _scared_. I'm scared of God. Of not going for this with Bella. Scared I'm not going to be good enough for her.

As for _sure_, though, I've never been more sure of anything.

"Yeah. I am. Do you want me to -" I nod toward her chest.

"God, yes," she sighs.

I unbutton another button as I stare down at her. Then another.

Her breathing is quick, heavy. Sexy.

When I get to the last, I push the shirt away from her and look down at the beautiful woman I have in my arms.

I cup her breast and enjoy the way it feels in my hand.

I glance at Bella. She's got her lip between her teeth, watching me. Waiting.

"You are so fucking gorgeous." I tuck some hair behind her ear. "Inside." My eyes dip. "Outside."

She pulls my head to hers and we kiss again. Her breast in my hand, her leg around my waist. It's consuming, and I feel like I need to kiss every square inch of her. Some places more than others.

My lips skim along her neck, then her collarbone. I think she likes it. I move down further to the dip between her breasts. She arches again for me there.

Finally, I work up the courage to take her nipple into my mouth.

She moans a little. It's subtle, like she wants more. So I suck. And she does it again, slightly louder this time.

I try biting just a little and fuck... _Okay_, she likes biting. I try alternating - sucking then biting, and there's no doubt how she feels.

"Christ," she whispers. I move to her other breast and try the same things there until Bella's squirming below me, tense, tightening her legs. I pull her in for more. Only when I do, I lose my balance and the two of us fall onto the floor. Bella topples onto me with a scream, followed by a laugh.

Maybe it's divine intervention. Maybe I'm just drunk. Maybe I'm not sure which way is up.

My head spins and I hold onto Bella's hips like it's going to stabilize me. Instead, the two of us are spinning together.

She's laughing, tits shaking. Tears are in her eyes as she looks down at me.

"Charlie definitely got me trashed. Fuck."

She holds her shirt closed as she helps me sit up and lean back against the couch. Then she straddles my lap, smiling and shaking her head.

"I wish I had some aspirin. You're gonna need it."

"Probably deserve it. I should have known better than to follow bourbon with rum."

I reach for her flannel again, but Bella puts her hand over mine to stop me.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," she tells me.

_What?_ "You're taking advantage of me?"

"Not like this. Not with you. Okay? I want us both to remember everything. You're too-"

"- much of a priest. No, yeah, I get it." I straighten myself up.

She slides her hand under my chin and tips my face up to hers. "You're too important to me, Edward."

And fuck, she's right.

She's too important. This is too important.

I can't possibly show her how much she means to me when I'm blitzed out of my fucking mind.

"Do you want me to go?"

"_No_. But if you decided to, um, _you know_, with me." She nods toward the bed. "I don't want it to be something you'd regret. I couldn't handle that. So maybe we could take fuck back off the table for now. Is that too much to ask?"

I let out a half chuckle and rub my face, wishing I could think straight.

"Deal. Yeah. I'm… fuck, Bella. I didn't mean to..." Shit.

"Hey, it's okay." She leans down and places a feather light kiss on my lips, then leans her forehead against mine. "I'm just glad I get to have you all to myself for a while."

"And if it does happen?" I squeeze her hips. "Maybe we won't call it _fucking_. Okay?"

Bella glances down. She seems like she might be holding her breath. Or… praying? Then she looks back up at me and gives me a half smile as she shakes her head.

"Let's get you out of this. You'll probably be more comfortable." She pulls off my collar like she's been doing it for years. When she leans to place it on the end table, she's so careful with it. So reverent. And yet, her shirt falls open and I catch the slightest glimpse of her breasts and… _Fuck_. I have a million emotions running through me.

She sits back on my lap, then starting at the topmost button, she works her way down my clerical shirt.

When she has it open, she stops and stares at my chest. She closes her eyes and smiles like she's trying not to laugh. "America's ass, Edward? Really?"

I peek at the Steve Rogers graphic on my shirt. "I mean… he's no Tony Stark… but… you like him." I look back up at her. "Right?"

"Not as much as I like you, you dork." She kisses behind my ear as she pushes the shirt from my shoulders and works it down my arms.

Her breasts press against me.

"I thought you said we weren't -"

"We're not."

"It kinda feels like we are." I slide my hands from her hips to her waist. It pushes the edges of the flannel apart and... _Christ_. I love seeing her on top of me like this. I love _feeling_ her on top of me like this.

She pulls her top closed again and buttons one button to hold it that way.

Then she cradles my face in her hand and raises an eyebrow. "You hungry?"

xXxXx

As the night stretches and the sky fades, Bella and I sit outside, bundled in blankets and pillows on a chaise overlooking the ocean. An electric fire flickers in the fire pit as I finish off the last of the frozen pizza. It was a valiant attempt to soak up the alcohol in my gut.

She's snuggled up into my side, hogging most of the blanket. Not that I care. I'm running pretty hot.

"I didn't have anything else to heat up. Sorry."

"Are you kidding me? This is perfect." I pop the last bite into my mouth and wrap an arm around her then kiss the top of her head. "Thank you."

"Any time."

She kisses my arm then wriggles a little - just a tiny bit further away from me. Enough for me to feel the loss of her body next to mine.

Waves crash somewhere out in the dark of night. It's calming. And romantic. And I feel like priesthood is a million miles away.

"Los Angeles is supposed to be this fantasyland. But it'll never be as pretty as this."

I watch her tuck some hair behind her ear. "Never."

She lays her head in my lap as she looks out over the water. "It's like we're on the edge of something."

My gaze moves from the black waves to Bella. "I know."

I twine our fingers together and pull her knuckles up to my lips, letting our hands rest against my chest afterward.

I yawn. I'm fucking tired. But I feel satisfied. Alive.

"When do you need to go?" she asks.

In my head, I'm thinking _never. _"I don't know."

"Stay a little longer?"

"As long as you want." If she asked me to stay forever, I would.

Away from St. Mary's. Away from the Catholic church. _God even. _

It sounds sacrilegious but feels pretty divine.

"Ask me anything?" I suggest as we lay there quiet and comfortable.

"Anything," she agrees, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Just a couple days ago, I don't think she would have given me a straight answer about what she ate for breakfast.

"Are you gonna sing for me tonight?"

I feel tension in her limbs, but it's momentary. She recovers quickly. "I'm still waiting on the juicy story, buddy. We had a deal."

"Kate Denali is not only _a_ juicy story, she's the _only _juicy story. So you already know all of my juicy stories."

She rolls onto her back and smiles up at me. "Then no singing, I guess."

I slip my hands under the edge of her flannel and over her ribs where there's all that space for those future important dates - where I know she's ticklish. Her eyes fly open. "You wouldn't."

"I would. And I will," I warn her, but I'm only half joking. I just want to see that smile.

But then something happens. She gazes up at me, and she smiles like that anyway. She didn't need dinner and dancing, she didn't need a corny joke, she didn't need to be stripped or tickled. She only needed to sit here with her head in my lap. With me.

She takes my hand in hers and tucks it in between our bodies.

"I don't need to know about Kate," she says, inspecting our hands before peeking up at me. "Tell me about Beethoven. I studied his stuff in music theory. What about you?"

It sends a jolt of long-stifled bitterness through my body.

Shit.

Beethoven.

I fucking forgot about him.

I close my eyes for a minute. Being a priest was supposed to put distance between me and my past, not lay it out like an open book.

I listen to waves out in the distance and mull over memories of my dad. "He was such a dick."

"Beethoven? You mean after he went deaf?"

I laugh. "No, he was surprisingly cool. My dad was…" I wave a hand at absolutely nothing but leave it at that.

She pushes away some hair that's fallen over my forehead. "Really? That's all you're gonna give me?"

She's right. I don't want to talk about him. But how can I expect her to trust me, to open up to me, if I'm not willing to do the same? This isn't about being a priest. It's about being with her, person to person. Man to woman. Me and the most important person in my world.

So I take a deep, drunken, cleansing breath and take a leap of faith.

"When I was a kid, he'd come home in a bad mood, it was smartest to stay out of his way. I was pretty good at it. A lot of the time, Mom was either too drunk or too bitter to avoid him."

Her lips part. She puts a hand against my cheek. "Did he hurt you?"

He hasn't. Not for a long time.

"Sometimes. Not always. It was a game I'd play, finding ways to distract Dad enough to avoid his wrath." I laugh. Kind of.

"That's a shitty game to have to play with your dad. I don't think I like him. Not at all."

This is why I don't like talking about him - that look on Bella's face. I can't take it. I don't want to spend tonight discussing all the ways my dad was able to make me feel incompetent.

"Not many people did," I breathe.

"When I asked about Beethoven, I didn't mean to… For me, Beethoven's loud and proud, even when he couldn't hear what he was making. It's how I always wanted to be."

"It _is _how you are. That was my exact thought at dinner, as a matter of fact." It's one of the many things I love about her.

"Fake it 'til you make it. When I was a kid I was just scared."

"I was scared too," I admit. "After dinner they'd get into it. It got loud and I'd grab headphones and put in the loudest music I could find. Mom didn't listen to the 'devil's music'. So I used -"

"Beethoven," Bella says with me.

"He was my substitute for teen angst music." I try to smile.

"I have so much to teach you. You skipped some good stuff. I mean, Nirvana would have definitely done the trick."

"Speaking of which…" I nudge her with my elbow.

"You want me to play you some Nirvana?"

"I'd rather hear my hymn."

She covers her face with the blanket. "I can't sing when you're staring at me like that."

I chuckle quietly. "You sing in front of thousands of people."

"But this is different. They don't know me."

"Fair is fair, Bella. I gave you a juicy story." She lets me pull the comforter away from her face.

"You gave me so much more than that. You have no freakin' idea."

I'm not sure what she could possibly think I've given her other than stories about a shitty childhood.

"You're deflecting," I tell her.

"Close your eyes?" she asks.

"Really?" She's not serious.

"Please close your eyes." Bella groans and tries to cover my eyes with her hands.

I swat them away, but I'm not really trying.

She's laughing as she sits up, still trying to hold her hands over my eyes. It's adorable and ridiculous, and I wrap my arms around her to pull her into my lap. She shrieks and squirms and finally settles in between my legs. My arms stay where they are and she leans against my chest.

"You still have to close your eyes," she tells me.

I don't think I'll ever be able to say no to her.

So I lean my head back and shut them.

"They're closed. Promise."

The hymn we've both known since we were kids starts to rise and fall with the sound of the waves. Her voice is soft at first, in time with her breath. Or mine. I can't tell.

_Adoro te devote, latens Deitas_

I pull her body closer. She shudders, then relaxes. Her voice rises, then pauses as she takes a breath. She shifts in front of me and, when I open my eyes, she's gazing at me with complete devotion. I brush my lips against hers and the kiss builds slowly, sweetly. Our bodies tangle.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" she asks.

"Honestly, I'm torn."

She giggles, then turns back to face the water. "Close your eyes."

I kiss the top of her head and pull her close.

_On the cross was veiled _

_Thy Godhead's splendor, _

_here Thy manhood lies hidden too_

She switches back to Latin. The words are out of order now. Weaving into the sea and the breeze, they turn hot and suggestive.

My body shivers with every verse. Her voice, the one that's been inside my dreams for the past two weeks, is exploding into the night around us. She quietly sings about how much she wants me. As much as I want her. Her voice fades with the waves, as I fade into sleep.

xXxXx

_Fuck._

My head is killing me. My mouth is dry. I'm seriously regretting that last shot at the bar last night. I barely remember how I got here. I blink my eyes open and see the sun rising over the water, and feel the warmth of Bella's body against me on the balcony of her cottage. I'm a hundred percent okay with all of it.

I peek down at her, sleeping soundly against my chest, and I brush a few stray hairs out of her face. Her flannel is half open, not entirely covering her breasts. I pull it closed as bits and pieces of last night come back to me.

The feel of her nipples in my mouth. The way she arched into my touch. The way we fell on the floor. _Christ._ The sound of her voice when she sang to me. The way it crossed over into my dreams.

Then she snorts in her sleep and I laugh.

My body shakes, jostling her awake.

She looks up at me.

"Hi." My voice is gruff. I'm groggy, to say the least, but I'm still grinning.

"_The_ look, Edward? Really? This early in the morning?"

What the fuck ever, she's giving me _the _smile. The two of us just stare at each other like idiots until she squints out at the sun as it comes up over the waves.

"You're up really early," she says.

"Who could sleep through you snoring?"

"I do not snore."

"Very loudly, too. I'm surprised anyone in this neighborhood got any sleep last night."

Her eyes flash. "You're a liar."

I hold my free hand up. "God's honest truth."

"Well, I won't argue with God, because He -" she stops.

"Because He... _what_?" I ask.

At first she looks out over the ocean, but then she looks back into my eyes. "Because He brought me to you."

I'm not sure if I'm feeling lightheaded because of what she just said or because I'm still buzzed.

"Be careful, Bella. You're acknowledging God's existence. Next thing you know, you'll admit to praying. _Again_."

"I never said -"

I stop the argument with a kiss.

Under the blanket, Bella's hand slides over my chest. She straddles me, much like last night on the floor of her living room.

My hands move under the flannel. Then she stops and asks me, "Are you sober?"

I laugh. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest." Then I check my watch. Shit. I was supposed to meet Jasper for breakfast.

"But I do have to go soon. I have confession today, and fuck… the rehearsal, the rehearsal _dinner_." My head pounds. "And a hangover from hell."

_Thanks Charlie._

"I don't want to rush this," she says.

And neither do I.

Her words hang in the air between us, because what we want doesn't exactly matter.

She leaves on Sunday.

* * *

**A/N: Things we're giving thanks for this week: SueBee's edits. Chrisann's feedback. Your love. Your laughs. Your reviews... Our contingency plan. **

**We're dying to know what you think. Not literally. We just really want to know. Drop us a line and we might have a little something for you later this week. **

**xoxo... BDC & Jo**


	30. Chapter 28 Enlightenment

**Chapter 28. Enlightenment **

**Father Cullen **

I canceled breakfast with Jasper.

It was an executive decision.

I'm not up for food. And I was halfway back to St. Mary's, with memories of spending last night Bella coming back to me, when I realized I have some soul searching to do.

Which is why, despite the pounding headache, the nausea, the dehydration, and everything else that comes along with the remnants of my night out, I'm sitting on the floor of my office. I'm surrounded by old research papers, the King James and the New International versions of the Bible, and my laptop. It now has ten tabs open.

"Father?" Leah peeks in from the hallway with a liter of water in her hands.

Thank God for Leah. "Thank you."

She leans over my mess of papers and hands it to me. "You sure there isn't something I can help you with? I'd be glad to-"

I wave her off as my phone buzzes.

"All good, Leah, really. Thank you though."

Leah disappears from the doorway but doesn't quite close the door as I read a text.

**Make it home ok? **Bella asks.

**Define okay** \- I text her. **My head feels like someone drove a stake through it**

**I'm sending Dad to confession. It must be a sin to get your priest soused. **

I laugh and hold my head because, laughing… ow.

She sends a selfie from the beach next. The waves are crashing in the background. She's wearing the flannel. And _the smile_.

**Miss you **\- she texts.

**Ditto **\- I send.

**You doing as you've been told? **

I'm lost but also amused. **It's not nice to give me riddles this morning, Bella. **

**Check your pockets.**

She's very cryptic, but I do it.

I find my lighter, cigarettes, a spare pen, and my wallet.

I'm about to text her back when I feel a tiny rolled up piece of paper.

I grin.

_Keep on priesting on. And don't forget to drink plenty of water. _

Something about the note makes my hangover seem worthwhile.

I follow my orders and drink half the bottle Leah gave me. Then I set my phone down and pull an old write-up of mine on the Book of Ruth out of a stack of three ring binders.

I smile at the paper I wrote, once upon a time.

"Had no idea who you really were back then, Ruth," I say to the manifesto. Then I open up the King James version of the Bible sitting next to me. I flip to her book, lean back against my desk, and read.

xXxXx

Muffled voices out in the hallway pull my attention away from the computer.

I've lost track of time. I only know I'm feeling better than when I woke up this morning. Both physically, and spiritually.

When I started my research today, I thought I'd find some definitive proof that what I'm feeling for Bella… where things are going with her… is okay in the eyes of the church. What I've realized is, it doesn't matter to me anymore what the church thinks. What matters is what's in my heart.

The more I read, the more clear it becomes. The rules of the church don't have as much to do with what the Lord wants, as they do with what _men _want. What _they _choose to believe.

As the voices out in the hallway get louder, I check the time and fuck. I have confession in a half hour.

I wonder if Bella will make a showing in the dark, dank box. Then I wonder if I'll be able to keep myself from making it completely blasphemous if she does.

_Lord, help me get through this day._

I down another half liter of water as images from last night flash through my mind. Bella on my lap, practically topless. Of her laughing. Singing. Sleeping next to me.

"Knock, knock."

I look up to see Jasper peeking in. He seems concerned as he inspects the mess I've made. I can't help but think Leah called in the troops.

"Everything okay in here?" He steps over a pile of books I've pulled off the shelves, things I haven't read in years.

I type in another Google search on my laptop:

**Ephesians definition of sexual immorality**

"Would you like to know how many interpretations there are on what this book says about sex outside of marriage?" I hold up the King James version of the Bible I've been pouring through. The New Oxford Annotated version sits next to me.

Jasper narrows his eyes. He knows what I'm getting at.

_Good._

"Did you know the Catholic Church allows priests to have a wife in certain cases?" I click on a tab I just had open about Laicization.

"Yeah, but-"

"Of course you have to already be married before you become a priest. And there's all _kinds _of stipulations attached to the exception."

"They're very rare," Jasper points out.

"Yeah, but they still make exceptions."

He takes a seat. "Your point?"

I take a deep breath. "Celibacy is supposed to be who a priest _is_, what makes him stand out. If they're gonna crack the door to exception, why not throw the damn thing open all the way?"

Jasper shrugs. "It's the rule, Edward. It's not our place to-."

I laugh. It's bitter. "Did you also know the _requirement _of celibacy isn't even mentioned in the Bible? Like, fucking anywhere?"

I wonder now how I never knew it before. But before, it wasn't an issue. Before Bella. Now everything I thought made sense feels like it's flipped upside down.

Jasper seems lost in thought.

"That _rule _was created by men, Jasper. Of _our _church. To avoid _nepotism_." I wave a hand. "So some _jackass _couldn't make his son or nephew a priest. Ridiculous, right?"

"Celibacy is there for a reason, Edward," he tells me in his cool, calm, and collected way. "It's so our attention isn't divided between God and worldly things."

"_God_ gives us free will. Why can't the church? Why can't that be _my _decision to make?"

"In the Vatican's eyes, it's what God wants. It's how they interpreted the Bible, it's-"

"It's _bullshit _is what it is. I mean yeah, the Bible's there to guide us. But they can't just _arbitrarily _make decisions for people. _We're _ultimately in charge of our own lives, right?"

"Have you been getting sleep?" he asks. "You seemed distracted the other night at dinner."

He looks like he just realized something as an afterthought. "Did you even come home last night?"

I ignore his question and pat my chest. "_We're _the ones who should determine what we believe in. Not these... men in Rome, on our behalf. That's totalitarianism."

He kind of laughs. "I get you wanna follow your rebellious instincts, Edward. But we all knew what priesthood looked like."

Sure, I knew. But I didn't care. Not back then. Now, maybe there's something else I care about too. Some_one _I care about.

Jasper sighs. He rubs his jaw, debating something. Or maybe trying to recall a memory.

"I ever tell you I was in love once?" It sounds like a confession. Like he wants me to absolve him of this hidden sin from his past.

I look over at him, stunned. I expected more arguing, not a declaration of his past sins.

He smiles like he hasn't thought about it in decades.

"I thought I was, anyway." He leans back into his chair and takes a deep breath. "I was so sure back then."

"I thought your first love was God."

I spin and cross my legs like I'm in Bible class, ready to hear this new parable he's about to tell.

"I was really young," he says. "Younger than you and Katie were."

"I never knew you even talked to girls. Ever. Not like that."

His thoughts seem far away. "Her name was Maria."

"And you thought you loved her." That's… a lot. Especially for Jasper. He's never spoken about this part of his life before. I mean, I knew he grew up in a Catholic family and attended mass. He was a choir boy. Then a Deacon. Attended seminary. Became a priest… then Bishop.

So where did Maria fit in?

"Looking back now, it wasn't love. Mostly it was just curiosity. And sex."

"Get the fuck outta here." I truly thought the man was a eunuch.

"Like, a lot of sex. Good sex." He smirks. "Great sex even."

I'm not even able to comprehend Jasper having sex, much less great sex at sixteen.

It makes me think about the way things have progressed with Bella. It's been so fast, so intense.

I love kissing her. I love exploring her body, feeling every part of her against me. I know I want to have sex with her. _God help me. _But that's all just physical. I want to know everything about her, in intricate detail. I want to go places, see people, learn things... with _her. _

The lust is there. It's overwhelming, but it's so much more than sex.

"What happened?" I ask him.

He shakes his head and shrugs. "The church has rules. I had to make a choice. I chose God."

He says it like it's no big deal. And I wonder if she ever was, the way Bella is for me.

"Any regrets?" I can't imagine having to choose between Bella and God. But when Jasper looks me in the eye and smiles the way he does, I see it was never really a choice for him.

He doesn't hesitate when he answers. "Not a one."

I let it sink in for a minute while Jasper studies me.

"I know you just met her," he says. He doesn't need to say Bella's name. We both know who he's talking about. "It's only been a little over a week but you seem… different."

"I wasn't expecting her," I tell him, my eyes falling to the floor. "I didn't know…" And I'm not sure how to finish that sentence. I didn't know someone like her existed? Someone I fit so perfectly with? Someone who makes my heart more full than it's ever been before?

It's not more than my love for God. But yeah… different.

Different enough that she makes me want to find a way to fit whatever this is between us into my priesthood, if that's even possible. After everything I've learned today, I hope maybe it is. Or could be.

When I meet Jasper's eyes again, I feel like maybe he gets it. Maybe. Only neither of us is sure what to say. We're both in unchartered territory.

My phone buzzes again and I pick it up to see another photo from Bella.

This one is just her bare toes in the wet sand. **Thinking of you **

I breathe easy and smile but feel Jasper watching me.

I'm sure in most cases, toes and sand are some of the most innocent things in the world.

But I've got to hide the photo.

And I'm sure I feel regret.

* * *

**A/N: Big ideas, I mean things, come in small packages, or... mirco chapters. We think, anyway.  
**

**God bless Sue, because we might have tweaked this chapter a bit after she fixed everything so... mistakes are ours. Thanks to ChrisAnn for being our eye in the sky. THANKS SO MUCH for reading and putting up with two non-believer's take on how this particular priest thinks.  
**

**SEE YOU TUESDAY! **


	31. Chapter 29 Advent

**Chapter 29. Advent **

**Bella**

* * *

I quietly slip into the back pew at St. Mary's. The lights are low. A small army of people assemble life size A, B, C's on the pulpit - Angela and Ben's initials.

My little sister's getting hitched.

To Ben Cheney.

_Yuck._

I slide lower in my seat as the bridesmaids practice how to walk down the aisle. Why can't they just walk normally? They'd walk normally for my wedding. If I ever had one, that is. I've never been one to fantasize about a white dress and a ring. Didn't seem like my scene.

Still doesn't, strictly speaking.

Not in the traditional sense.

Not like this.

Maybe on a cliff overlooking the water.

Maybe just in a backyard.

Not that I'm thinking about it.

At all.

Ben smiles as Angela walks down the aisle with my dad. Tonight Ben is dutiful and devoted. I try to pretend it means something, but fail. Last night he told me he was sorry. He told me he wanted a clean slate. Yeah, he told it to me straight, while he ogled my tits.

Angela noticed too. It only made her hold his hand tighter. She sobbed and told me we'd always be sisters.

Tonight she's not crying. Tonight she's triumphant as my dad goes through the motions of giving her away. Meanwhile, my dad looks like he's the one who's about to lose it. His sniffles echo through the sanctuary.

He's the only reason I showed up for the rehearsal, and he's the only reason I'm going to this dinner afterwards. He told me he wanted his family together.

So here I am. Giving Dad what he needs. When he needs it.

Dad takes his seat and Edward takes over. Even tired and hungover, he looks gorgeous. Sure, his hair's kinda disheveled like he's been pulling at it from its roots, but if you ask me, it looks even hotter this way. He's patient when Eddie fusses and Emmett has to pass him off to Rose. Apparently he has another look in his playbook - a stern one he saves for the groomsmen when they start acting like twelve-year olds. They quiet the fuck up and my heart flutters. Then he starts speaking quietly to just Angela and Ben. He's really trying for them.

Sexy, stern, supportive man.

My feelings for him seem to grow by the minute. Just when I'm sure they're going to completely overwhelm me, my heart grows enough to handle them. I care about a person more than I ever knew possible.

I care enough that it hurts.

I keep trying to tell myself I have issues. I fell in love with someone completely unattainable. It's probably a defense mechanism. It may be because I'm broken.

Still, I don't feel broken when I'm with him. Nothing's ever felt simultaneously exciting and peaceful like it did last night, when it was just the two of us in each other's arms. I should probably just slip out of St. Mary's and take that feeling on the road with me. Remember it. Live with it.

Let it inspire me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"_Listen, if You're real, shouldn't being here with Edward feel wrong and leaving feel right?_"

I wait. For nothing.

"_I don't want to hear it's Satan making this feel so fine because I only have room for one imaginary deity. This one-way conversation? It's happening thanks to the guy wearing the collar up there._"

I wait, but divine intervention must be on pause for the evening.

When I open my eyes, Edward's politely listening to the wedding planner like he hasn't married dozens of couples. Then he catches me looking his way, and it feels like an invisible connection lights up between us. My heart pounds, my palms sweat, my entire body tingles. Even after he shifts his gaze.

"_So this is on you, God. And if it's on you, why is it wrong?_"

I wait for an answer, but I'm new to this God thing. Maybe He has other plans for His Friday night.

As Edward's explaining something to the couple before him, he reaches out and takes Angela's hand. She holds onto him like it's nothing, and I'm filled with irrational jealousy. I have a day and a half. I want every touch for myself. Every look.

Every kiss.

I want Edward hovering over me, staring into my eyes and telling me we're the same. I want him explaining with kisses how I'm as hot, as humble and as nerdy as he is. I want Edward sitting beneath me, his hands on my hips as he holds open my top. I want to sing him to sleep again to the rhythm of the waves. I want to wake up together to the first rays of sun over the water.

I want as much of him as I can get. But as much as I want, I'll only take what he's willing to give. It took every ounce of strength I could muster to put a stop to things last night.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the sanctuary door bangs shut just behind me. The Cheneys slip into the back pew across the aisle. Mrs. Cheney averts her eyes when she catches me looking in her direction. She probably thought she was rid of me when I left home. Two can play at that game, lady. I thought I was rid of you too.

I slide out of the pew and out the side door of the sanctuary. I have better things to do with my time than to be loathed. I've got a new song I just can't let go of. So I take a seat on the steps, light a cigarette, and pull out my little notepad. Then I think about the man I love as I write.

xXxXx

"Bella?"

I'm startled, but by this point I know the voice. I'm not surprised when I look up and find Bishop Whitlock looming over me.

"Hey, Bishop. Long time no see."

His smile looks stiff. He's trying to look happy to see me. "What brings you here tonight?" And yeah, I guess I am lurking outside the church.

"Wedding rehearsal. Not mine, of course. That would be something, right? My sister Angela's tying the knot tomorrow."

He nods. "Right, right. I saw it on the schedule."

I smile back at him. He lingers.

I try not to let the fact he's a bishop completely unnerve me. This is the guy Edward loves and respects. He's Edward's family. I want to love his family as much as he seems to love mine.

I hold out my box of American Spirits. "Want a smoke?"

He holds up a hand. "No, thanks."

Of course. I debate putting out my cigarette, but I don't. I figure if Jesus hung out with prostitutes, bishops can hang with smokers.

"So… what're you up to tonight?" I wonder out loud.

Are Friday nights a thing for bishops? Do they stay up late and read bible verses?

"Sometimes taking a walk helps settle my mind. I put one foot in front of the other and it puts my thoughts in order. I could use some order this evening."

"That's cool. Don't let me keep you or anything."

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" he asks. He nods toward Bedford Ave like it's some long lost oasis.

And, no. I would not. I think my answer shows on my face. Bishop Whitlock's smile becomes a bit more stiff, but also more determined.

"I think the Lord put you in my path for a reason, Bella."

"The Lord is weird. I wouldn't trust Him."

The Bishop chuckles. "Edward said you had a sense of humor. Listen, I'm willing to chance it if you are." He manages to look patient and kind instead of judgmental.

I peer behind me at the church. There's a good half hour left before we have to head to the rehearsal dinner. I glance at the notebook in my hands. The lyrics I've been hearing aren't going anywhere. They've been playing over and over in my mind for the past couple of days. I hear them in my sleep.

"Maybe just around the block? My family's expecting me. I don't want to let them down."

xXxXx

The Bishop and I walk in silence for a while - past the houses of old friends, past corner stores, past my old high school. I try to tug at my sweater so it covers both my shoulders, but it's not cooperating. I settle for keeping the shoulder closest to him covered. After the last time I ran into him, he's going to think I can't even manage shirts, let alone life in general.

If he's bothered, he doesn't show it. He stays a safe distance away, looking ahead with his hands sunk deep in his pants pockets. I wonder if his footsteps are doing what he wanted with his thoughts.

My own thoughts stray to Edward, just like they always do these days. I'm dying to ask about him as a kid right after his parents died. Was he more angry or sad? Or was he relieved to put the abuse behind? Was he a troublemaker or did he brood? How in the world did he turn into the insightful, caring man I fell in love with?

"So, what brought you back to Brooklyn?" Bishop Whitlock asks as we wait at a stoplight.

"I'm on break from touring. There was Rose's baby. Angela's wedding."

"All blessings."

"At least two of the three." I leave it up to him to decide which is which.

"This your first break since leaving home?" he asks.

"Uh, no. This is my first official tour. Before this it was pretty much all break. Why?"

He shrugs. "Haven't noticed you around the church much before these past couple weeks."

I laugh a little. "I'm not strictly a believer. My mom forced me into confession when I got home a week or two ago. It's been a crazy, Catholic ride ever since."

I make a roller coaster kind of motion with my hand, but the Bishop's not amused. He stops a little ahead of me on the sidewalk. A tree blocks out the streetlight and casts him in shadow.

"That's actually what I was wondering... About this crazy, Catholic ride you're taking."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you at St. Mary's as much as you are these days to get closer to God? Or is it to get closer to Father Edward?"

My heart tries to leap out of my mouth, so I clench my jaw tight. I take half a step back, then stop. I've faced off against my share of men in my day and for much less important reasons.

"What if I'm there for both things?" I ask. "What if my relationship with Edward, I mean _Father_, is changing my relationship with… the universe, or God, or whatever you want to call it?"

"Is _that _what you think is happening here?"

I put my hands on my hips. "I think I'd know better than you."

The man starts walking again. I have to rush a little to catch up.

"He's a good priest. Don't hold _me _against him. Okay? I'll be gone in two days."

"You're right. He is a good priest. The best in the diocese, if you ask me."

"Who else would I ask?"

Bishop Whitlock quirks an eyebrow as he peers into my face.

"I mean, because you're his boss, and because you've known him for a really long time."

"Since he was a child," he adds.

I nod. "He told me. Since right after his parents died."

The Bishop studies me again, so I watch him right back. His eyes are pale blue. He's got a few lines at the corners of them and across his forehead, like he thinks a lot, or worries. Or both. His hair is graying at the temples.

He's old enough to be Edward's dad. In so many ways, he is.

I'm not surprised he doesn't like me. He's not the first dad to feel this way. But I'm talking about Edward here. I should treat this dad with respect.

I take a deep breath.

"He was so lucky you were there for him. If you weren't…" I shake my head.

If he wasn't, Edward would never have been there to help my family.

He would never have been there for me.

"His parents…" Bishop Whitlock starts to say, then clenches his jaw. He shakes his head.

"Edward told me all about them. About, well... Beethoven."

His eyes go wide. "He told you." It's not a question. It's a fact. One I won't deny. Then he drops his head like he's resigned. He holds his hands behind his back and starts walking again.

"It's hard to figure out how to handle a fifteen-year old kid who's never known unconditional acceptance, who doesn't know what it means to be loved. A kid like that's going to build walls to protect themself, but it leaves them very much alone."

I wonder if the Bishop is talking about Edward. Or if he's talking about me.

Then I remind myself it's not about me. This is more important. He's talking about the person who I might care about even more than myself.

"I get that," I tell Bishop Whitlock. "Maybe more than you know."

His smile is sad. "Then maybe you get how vulnerable a heart like that might be. How it could be swayed with the right words. With the right questions."

And yeah, maybe he's right again. Maybe that's what Edward did to me. Maybe it's what I did to Edward. I peer at the brownstones on my side of the street instead of looking at the Bishop. My eyes burn and I try blinking away unshed tears.

"Edward recognizes this vulnerability in others because he's seen it firsthand in himself. It's part of what makes him such an extraordinary priest. He judges less. He looks out for the underdog."

When I look back at Bishop Whitlock I can see it in his face.

He thinks Edward cares because I was so hopeless. So lost.

And because I was so hopeless and lost, I fucked up a priest in the process.

Our steps slow as we round a corner and see St. Mary's again. Bishop Whitlock nods toward the church. It's all dark gray stone, with it's polished wooden doors and its bell tower - taller than any of the other buildings on the block.

"It took a lot to get Edward where he is today. A lot of work for me. A lot of work for him. He's found a good place for himself at St. Mary's. There's no telling where this could take him." He looks down at me and his face is grim. Any hint of a smile is long since gone. "But I'm afraid."

"Of God's judgment?" I wonder out loud.

"I'm afraid you might have the power to weaken Edward's resolve. Cloud his judgment. That if given the opportunity, he wouldn't think twice about leaving this calling behind. He wouldn't think beyond wanting you."

"I guess I also worry about that," I admit. "But I worry about other things too."

The bells of St. Mary's begin to ring out into the night. They're deep and loud and the air feels like it's vibrating.

"Such as?" the Bishop asks.

"I guess I worry that maybe he didn't really choose _this _life."

The Bishop shakes his head. "I counseled him throughout his seminary coursework. I was there when he took his vows."

I look up at Bishop Whitlock. He stands there with such confidence, like he has it all figured out. It's reassuring and off-putting all at once. "Maybe he just chose you. The guy who loved him and the life that came with it? The only family he's ever known?"

Before he can answer, St. Mary's doors open and my family, along with Edward, spill out onto the steps. Rose's kids race down toward the sidewalk. Alice grabs Patrick so Rose can chase after them. Dad's talking with Emmett and Ben. Edward's speaking to my mom, but something catches his attention and he stops to glance across the street. Bishop Whitlock waves. Edward looks between the two of us.

"I'd like to think God chose this life for him," the Bishop tells me.

But I'm not sure which life he means.

"Maybe He'll change his mind." I glance overhead. Still no signs forthcoming. If God's there, He definitely takes Fridays off.

"I mean, God can be a fickle motherfucker. Am I right?"

The Bishop smiles, like he's proud of me and uncomfortable all at once. "In some ways you remind me of him. I see why he likes being around you."

"With all due respect, you don't know the half of it. What he likes, what we like together, that's just between me and Father Edward."

"It's between you, Edward, _and_ God. Edward is loyal to God above all else."

"I don't think I'd want him any other way, Bishop. You have a good night."

I head toward my family. We have a stupid wedding to celebrate.

* * *

**A/N: Confession time: I've never been called out by a bishop. I would probably freak the fuck out. What about you? And what do you think Bella's going to do? Drop a line and let us know.**

**Thanks to SueBee! CapitAls are hard. Ellipses are... tempting. Thanks to ChrisAnn for reading imperfect words. And thanks to everyone on fb who's been talking about BoC, chatting us up, making us laugh, and maybe beating up virtual bishops (although I do not condone violence!) Links to our Dark, Dank Box are on our author page. **

**Next update is later this week. ~ BDC & Jo**


	32. Chapter 30 The Last Supper

**Chapter 30. The Last Supper **

**Father Edward**

Despite all the people gathered outside St. Mary's, my attention gravitates to Bella.

Not because she's wearing the same sweater she wore the night we went to see Emily Young or that it hangs off her shoulder in the same way it did that night. Not because the skirt she's wearing shows off just enough of her legs to make me wish I could see more, or the way her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, or how little wisps fall against her face.

Not even the way her eyes tell me, from across the street, that she's wishing we were alone. Just like I am.

It's because my chest feels heavy when she's away, lighter when she's near. Because, yeah, my love for God is pure, but it has so much more meaning since I met her. I don't want to remember a time when she wasn't here, and I can't stand thinking about her leaving me.

Because, without her, I don't feel entirely complete.

She exchanges a few words with Jasper before giving him a wave goodbye. It seems like a friendly conversation, but she looks a bit tense as she walks away.

I try to stay engaged with Charlie as he claps me on the shoulder, with Angela when she thanks me for the tenth time tonight, and with Renee when she shakes my hand, looking hesitant to chance another hug under the eyes of the Lord.

Instead of reaching out to touch Bella as she walks by, I busy my hand by running it through my hair.

She looks like she's trying to hide a smile as she passes me. Then she finds her dad and he wraps an arm around her.

I'd much rather she was here, by my side, with my arm around her. But it's not about what I want. Not now. Not like that. Right now we're here to celebrate someone joining their family.

I watch Angela laugh with her mother. I watch Ben kiss his bride to be on the cheek just before he climbs into a car with his buddies.

"How'd it go?" Jasper pulls my attention away from daydreams. He seems distracted. Pensive.

"It was fine. Were you and Bella talking?" I ask.

He chuckles a little. Like he was waiting for me to ask. "She's-"

"Amazing," I say, finishing his sentence.

"I was going to say irreverent," Jasper adds. He nods toward Bella, who's playfully flipping Alice the bird.

I try not to laugh out loud. "That too."

"Father?" Renee calls over to me. "Seven thirty. Don't forget."

I wave as Bella and her sisters pile into Rose's minivan. Bella sees me watching and gives me the smile before she ducks into the car. I do my best not to make it obvious to everyone just how overwhelmed that look makes me feel.

"Stocked up on rum just for you tonight, Father," Charlie teases.

The mere thought of alcohol makes me nauseous.

"He who mocks the hungover insults his Maker, Charlie."

Bella's father laughs and claps me on the back.

Emmett takes a break from trying to corral his kids. "Fucking lightweight," he jokes, then notices Jasper standing next to me and stops laughing immediately. He clears his throat. "No offense, Father."

"We'll see you over there," Charlie says as the two of them head out.

"You coming tonight?" I ask Jasper.

"I know how private the family is. I wouldn't want them clamming up on you."

He's teasing me and letting me know how full of shit he knew I was that first night out with Bella. "Besides," he says. "I've got some things I need to wrap up before I head back home."

"You're leaving?" The sudden sense of loss I feel is unexpected. His visit hasn't been _all _easy, but I've gotten used to having his council again. Even if we don't agree eye to eye on everything.

"Can't stay forever, Edward." He looks like he's debating something. "You don't have to either, ya know. Have you thought about Italy any more?"

I try to smile. "I have. I am. I'm just…"

"Waiting to see what Bella does?"

The way he calls me out shouldn't be a surprise. He's been doing it since we met.

I can't deny it's been on my mind. "She's leaving to go back on tour," I tell him, practically willing it not to happen. "That's not changing," I add, more as a reminder to myself than for Jasper.

"Then what's stopping you? St. Mary's?"

St. Mary's. The Swans. Bella's possible return.

"I like it here." It's not a lie. Not by a long shot. "The parish needs me."

He ponders and pats my arm. "They're lucky to have you. Just remember how much potential you have. How much I believe in you. Don't be afraid to spread your wings."

I hate thinking about disappointing the man. He's been there for me through every challenging part of my life. He found a place for me at St. Vincent's after my parents died, even though I was considered a problem. He taught me caring and understanding. How to trust people. Love people. He gave me all the tools I needed to have a better relationship with God. Then he gave me the freedom to build that relationship on my own terms.

He believes in me. He trusts me to make the right decision.

_Forgive me, Jasper._

I'm just not sure we agree on what the right decision is anymore.

xXxXx

Charlie stands at the head of a long table in the private room of an Italian restaurant on the water.

"Renee and I knew we wanted a big family when we got hitched. What did we say, Renee? Ten kids?" He winks. Renee laughs.

Then Charlie's smile fades. "But Angie got sick and it took all we had to keep it together for a while. I remember you in the hospital, Angie, hooked up to all those tubes and monitors. I worried I'd never see this day. But here we are, thank God."

He raises his glass to me, like I'm God. I try to ignore all the eyes on me when he does it.

"After a lot of prayer and probably some luck, we're all present and accounted for tonight. All in this room together. My family's not perfect. No family is. Tonight we're gonna get ready to make our imperfect family just a little bit bigger. To Angela and Ben."

Charlie holds up his glass to the room.

His words bring a tearful smile to Angela's face. I notice Ben eyeing the table where his groomsmen are sitting, but he keeps his arm around his fiancé, supporting her. Anyone else watching might think he looks like a dutiful fiancé. I wish I were so sure.

I raise my glass of water and watch Bella as I take a sip. She doesn't join in on the toast.

With everyone's attention on Angela and Ben, I watch Bella all I want. It's a welcome contrast to last night where every word I said, every glance I stole, every kiss I desperately wanted, seemed like it was being dissected in great detail.

Or maybe that was just me.

Watching her is about all I've been able to do. Bella was seated with her sisters and the bridesmaids at dinner. I've spent most of the night next to Charlie and Emmett… and Ben. Which, given the number of people here, has made me feel miles away from her.

It's been a challenge, wanting to move closer to her. To touch her. Talk to her. Hear her laugh. Debate who the real heroes are in any given Avenger movie.

Christ, she leaves in less than two days. What the hell am I going to do then?

To make things worse, she's barely looked in my direction the entire meal. Wondering why has been gnawing at me all night.

I distract myself by taking a look around the room. The Cheneys seem so reserved, so formal. They keep to themselves at a table near the back.

They're the polar opposite of the Swans. So perfectly flawed, and yet, you can see they love each other, too. Rose and Emmett look completely at ease, enjoying a conversation that doesn't entail simultaneously herding children. Alice keeps busy with her Maid of Honor obligations, despite sneaking peeks at her phone throughout the night.

Even Renee seems relaxed as she stands and slides a hand around Charlie's waist. She goes up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. They share a moment with each other that makes me want to seek Bella out again.

She's leaning against the bar across the room, staring at me like she's been waiting for me to notice.

I smile and show her my water. She smiles back and I could swear we're thinking the same thing. _When is this dinner over? _

I start toward her to see how she's holding up when Emmett stops me, mid-stride. "Hey Ed… uh, _Father_, I need some extra man power. Got a minute?"

"Of course," I tell him, forcing myself not to look back at Bella.

We pass Ben as we leave. Emmett doesn't ask him for help. Probably because it's his rehearsal dinner.

Outside, Emmett yawns. "I can't remember the last time I was out two nights in a row."

"Me either," I agree.

"Hair of the dog, though, right?" He elbows me.

"Not tonight," I tell him. I won't be drinking a drop of anything but water.

"Smart move. You come to a lot of these things? Rehearsal dinners for parishioners you're marrying?"

"Not really," I tell him honestly. "This one's... unique."

Emmett chuckles under his breath.

Things feel easy with him. Like last night. Granted, I don't remember much from the bar. But I do remember laughing with him, talking about the most ridiculous topics, and hearing stories about Bella's childhood. Maybe a hug at the end of the night?

"You ready for tomorrow?" he asks.

"Honestly?" I blow some air out. "It was touch and go for a while there but… ready as I can be, I guess."

"I hear that," he says. Almost like he's got something to add but decides against that idea.

Instead, he has me help him with some equipment he's brought to the restaurant.

I laugh. "Doing some sound mixing tonight?"

He lifts a stand out of the back and hands it to me, then a box of CDs. "Rosie and I did karaoke at our wedding rehearsal. It was a fucking blast. Dad thought it'd be fun to make it a tradition."

Emmett doesn't bother to apologize for cursing. It makes me feel more relaxed than it probably should. Like he's just a normal friend. Who's not a priest.

I think back to that first time Bella visited my office. She asked if I was allowed to have friends. My answer was theoretical back then. It isn't anymore.

I notice some bridesmaids sharing a smoke and some gossip as we head back into the restaurant. They giggle when they see us.

Emmett nods to one of them. "'Sup, Rachel. You guys singing later?"

"_God_, no" she says, then she recognizes me and her face drains of all its color. She looks horrified. "Sorry, Father."

Emmett laughs. And I couldn't agree more. Using the Lord's name in vain is the least of my worries at the moment.

"I expect your request within the hour," Emmett jokes with her as the door closes behind us.

xXxXx

"Yes!" Alice practically shouts when she sees us lugging the boxes into the restaurant. She immediately starts directing Emmett about how to set everything up.

I pray I'm not asked to sing. I might lose parishioners.

Then I wonder if Bella will. Or if she'll avoid it altogether.

I scan the restaurant for her again.

She's with Rose. Laughing, waving her hands around, talking animatedly like maybe they're sharing a story about Rose's… breasts?

Yeah. I am _not_ interrupting that conversation.

Besides, her family doesn't have much time left with her.

_I _don't have much time left with her.

Fuck it.

Awkward or not, I start to head over to her, but I'm stopped by Emmett. _Again_.

"Ed, do me a solid?" He digs into his pocket and pulls out his keys, then holds them out for me. "I forgot to lock the van up."

I sigh but take them while he works on getting some music synced to a TV on stage.

_Rhinestone Cowboy_ starts to play as I head for the exit. Suddenly, I hear Charlie belting out the first lines to the song and I double-time it. Hearing him sing is going to give me just the entertainment I didn't know I needed tonight.

I lock Emmett's damn van for him, passing the bridesmaids again. Back inside, Charlie's on his second verse. He looks like he's struggling so hard up there. I almost feel sorry for him.

_Almost._

Then I recall the hangover I woke up with and I definitely do not have any sympathy for the man.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

"Father! Do a lemon drop with us!" Ben calls out. He's huddled with his groomsmen at a table all to themselves. He's drunk. He's sloppy. And I have absolutely no desire to encourage him.

I ignore him and he doesn't seem to care either way, thankfully.

As Charlie's song comes to an end, he can't hop down off of the stage fast enough. "Wanna take a crack at it, Father?" he asks as he wipes his brow and tries to pass me the mic.

"I don't think so," I tell him. It's not up for debate. They _really _do not want to hear me sing.

Luckily, Charlie laughs it off and simply hands the mic back to Emmett.

Loud, boisterous laughter grabs my attention. It's Ben again. He slams back another shot before heading outside alone. His groomsmen all get a good laugh at his expense, but hopefully, the fresh air will clear his head.

I search for Bella again. She's with her mother on the other side of the room. When I catch her eye, she bites her lip and tilts her head like she's debating something.

Then I have an idea.

I nod toward a hallway nearby that leads to an exit in the back of the building. Bella glances there and back to me. Then she whispers something to Renee.

xXxXx

I pace as I wait for her and hope no one else finds this spot.

When she meets me in the dimly lit space, Bella's smirking, trying to be playful. But there's some hesitancy. Something's weighing her down.

"You okay?" I ask. But then her smile turns genuine. It's the smile she saves just for me.

"I'm good. You needed something, _Father_?"

"Yeah." I slip a hand around her waist and pull her close. "Just this."

Her eyes go wide and she looks back toward the restaurant.

"Bella?"

She searches my face like she's wondering if I've finally lost my mind.

"I'm not crazy, Bella," I tell her. "I just…"

I explain what I _am _with a kiss. She's all soft edges. Sweet lips. Willing tongue. And her body fits against mine, so easily. But the feeling I get when she's with me this close isn't soft. It's hungry and anxious.

I'm so lost in the moment, I don't give a fuck who sees.

Bella backs up. She's pressed against the wall. My hands are in her hair and little pins fall to the floor around us. Her hands stay at my hips. Just there. No further. And I'm craving more. Like back in her cottage. On the couch. On the floor. In the chaise.

_On the bed._ Just her and me. Nothing but time. The time we don't have.

She's cautious. Not with the kiss but with everything else. No wandering hands pulling at my shirt. No suggestions of things she'd like to do.

A soft noise at the back of her mouth makes me want more. Right now. Leave the dinner, find that bed, lose the clothes, and get her to make more sounds like that. Maybe get her to say my name.

Her hand slips between us, against my chest, and she breathes heavy, shaky. Her eyes are dark. Like she wants to get out of here too. But she doesn't say it. She doesn't say anything.

"Bella and… _Father_?" someone asks.

I step away from Bella. I smooth my shirt. Bella fidgets with her hair.

Angela rushes down the hallway toward us. "I can't find Ben anywhere. I've barely seen him since Dad's toast."

I point down the hallway. "I saw him head outside a few minutes ago."

She lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh, good. I thought he was making a last minute run for it." Angela laughs. It's nervous, but I think she's genuinely kidding. Maybe.

Bella quietly groans as Angela heads back toward the front of the restaurant.

"Faith, huh?" Bella asks.

Then something hits me. And, yeah, as much as I want to be with Bella right now, _and I really want to be with Bella_, I'm still Angela's priest. Still God's front man.

"Yes, faith," I tell her with a quick kiss. "Hold that thought."

I catch up with the bride-to-be in the lobby. "I'll help you find him," I tell her, holding open the front door. I tell myself it's just a precaution. There's no way in hell Ben's that stupid. Or insensitive. But as we step out onto the sidewalk, those thoughts are forgotten as divine intervention makes a showing.

"Fuck," Angela and I say together.

At the corner of the restaurant and an alleyway, about a hundred feet away, we spot Ben having a private conversation with one of the bridesmaids. She's leaning up against the brick building. He's holding himself up with one hand against the wall, next to her head, the other is in his pocket.

Technically, they're just talking, but they're entirely too close for it to be innocent.

Angela's frozen in shock. The expression on her face breaks my heart.

Tears well up in her eyes. Her lip quivers. Her face flushes. "I thought it was just Bella," she whispers in a small, shaky voice as she watches her fiancé.

After another moment, she quietly slips back inside, takes a seat in the waiting area, and stares at the floor. I sit next to her and try to come up with something to say that might comfort her.

"Angela-"

She holds a finger up.

I can tell her mind is moving a million miles a minute. I just don't know what it is she's working out. Is she thinking about how to confront him? Or wondering if she should let it slide?

If she does decide to let it slide, where does that leave me?

I have no idea.

She looks up at me with determination in her eyes.

"Can I ask you a favor, Father?"

"Anything," I promise.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

She's asking me to take a pretty big leap of faith. Given how many times I've asked her to trust me over the past year, I owe it to her. Whether it's been about the word of God, or her relationship with Ben, she's trusted me. For a long time, her mother treated her like she's the most delicate thing on this planet, bending over backwards to make sure she's happy, doing everything in her power to make sure this wedding happens.

Maybe Angela needs someone to believe she's stronger than that.

It's the least I can do.

"Okay," I tell her.

She forces a smile and wipes the tears from her face. When we stand, she gives me a hug.

"Thanks Father," she says before she leaves me there.

_Give her strength, Lord,_ I ask as I watch her disappear down a hallway. Then I make my way back into the crowded dining area.

I don't have to look very far to find Bella this time. She's standing just to the side of the stage looking up at her brother-in-law with that stubborn look in her eyes I know so well.

"Come on, Bella." He cups his hands to his mouth. "You _sing _for a _living_!"

She's biting her lip, tucking her hair, looking down like she's searching for a supernatural portal to exit through.

"Bell-a! Bell-a! Bell-a!" He starts to chant. Then her sisters join in.

"I have no idea what to even sing, Emmett," she insists.

Charlie pipes in. "Sing one of _your _songs, honey."

He's relaxed, with one arm around Renee, holding a can of Bud. Renee looks slightly uncomfortable for the first time tonight. She whispers something to her husband, but he shakes his head. Then I see something else in her expression and I'm filled with hope for her relationship with her daughter.

Bella throws her hands up. "I don't even have my guitar."

I laugh. Like her family would let her off the hook that easily.

"You don't need one!" Rose yells.

"Girl's got perfect pitch," Alice adds. "Sing the one you can't stop humming!"

"Bell-a! Bell-a!" Emmett chants again into the mic.

When she finally gives in, blushing her way up onto the stage. I hold my breath, waiting to hear the voice that's given me ideas about a different kind of future.

Emmett hops down and stands next to me. He crosses his arms and leans in to whisper, nodding toward his sister-in-law. "Remember the story about the talent show and Bella's stage fright the night her parents showed up?"

I have no idea what he's talking about.

He laughs. "Not much has changed."

I try to imagine a young Bella up on stage in high school, looking this beautiful, this hesitant. Like she doesn't think she can do it here, in front of family and friends.

Then slowly, she starts to sing. For them. For me.

For us.

"I think you're wrong, Emmett," I tell him, but my eyes are glued to the woman who steals a little more of my heart every day I know her. "Everything's changed."

At first, I think she's going to sing my hymn again. It's what I was hoping for. But as I listen to the words, I can tell this isn't the hymn.

This is something new.

Something I may have caught a glimpse of in her notebook last night.

* * *

**A/N: Thoughts on what Angela might do with her new found realization? YIKES.  
**

**Hey, THANKS to Sue for cleaning up the place (chapter) for us. THANKS SO MUCH to Kate for stepping in and doing some heavy hitter pre-reading! And THANKS to all our readers and group members for sharing thoughts, laughs, and insights on religion in general! Who knew there could be such enlightening conversations surrounding a fictional priest and his Fleabag Bella? **

**Next chapter will be up sooner than you think ~ SEE YOU THEN!**


	33. Chapter 31 Calumny

**Chapter 31. Calumny **

**Bella**

* * *

I try to look self-assured as I take the tiny stage; play it cool the same way I've been doing all my life.

Rose is right. I don't need a guitar. I hear the notes every time I close my eyes. I pulled the words for this song from somewhere deep inside me. So easily strung together, now they're locked in place for life. The lyrics are like breathing. Like the beating of my heart. They happened without trying, but feel vital.

They're not strictly sexy. They're not funny. It's not just another pop song. They're probably what you would find if you could read my soul.

If souls were real, I mean.

I cough. "You think so, Alice?" I ask as I cling to the mic stand. I'm trying to be light. I'm not feeling light. I'm shaking. I can feel Edward's eyes on me from across the room.

"Oh my God, yes!" Alice gushes. "It's so good."

I spot my mom at the back. Her lips are pressed together in a tight smile. I know the look. I've seen it my whole life. During countless dinners with Father Volturi. As she dropped me off for Sunday school. When I took the stage at talent shows in elementary school. She's worried about what might come out of my mouth when I sing.

Something about Mom's a little different though. Maybe it's the set of her shoulders. Maybe it's the slow rise and fall of her chest. Then she wraps her arm around my dad's waist and looks into my eyes from across the room and I know what's different.

She's proud. She's excited. She nods just a little. Oh my God. She's encouraging me to perform.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Emmett whispering in Edward's ear. I can't look at him, though. If I did… If I did...

_Dear God_.

If I did, everyone in here would know how I feel about him.

It's Sunday mass all over again, but I'm the one on stage, and Edward's waiting to hear what I have to say.

_Christ. _

Rose and Alice start cheering. "Woohoo! Go Bella!" Everyone from the wedding party stands and starts chanting my name and clapping.

The noise they make is pretty small, all things considered. I've played for stadiums.

This ragtag cheering is much scarier, though. These people have been in my life forever. They're the ones I've been protecting myself from. The ones who never got me. But as I look out and Mom and Dad, Rose and Alice, even Emmett, I know they're the ones who love me, even if they don't totally accept me.

I close my eyes. I take a deep breath. Then another. I finally open my mouth and let them in on a secret. I let them know how I feel. About life. About love. About a nameless person standing less than ten feet away.

At first it's difficult. The words need to tear through something to make it out of my mouth.

My chest burns.

My hands shake.

I pause and take a breath.

When I open my eyes and look out over the little crowd, everyone's watching. You could hear a pin drop. Alice gives me a thumb's up. Dad's recording me with his phone. Mom wipes a tear from her eye.

I try again and it's easier. Like living. Like breathing. Like loving. You learn as you go.

So I sing like I love. My voice is hard and insistent. It's sure.

It's beautiful.

My song builds word upon word, verse on verse. I don't have to think about it. I just am. Rising like the morning tide.

As the last note fades into the air, I open my eyes and look to my left. He's all I see. Edward's lips are parted just a little. His head's inclined, leaning toward me, watching me watching him.

I smile. Now he knows, and I'm glad. All there is is me and him and these feelings I released into the air between us. It's all that matters. Not another person. Not another sound. Not another breath. It's all out there. It's done.

I startle when I hear the first clap. Then there's another. Followed by a smattering, like no one's entirely sure what just happened. The sound steadily builds. Then my family jumps to their feet. They cheer. They shout.

Alice rushes the stage and throws her arms around me. Then Rose is there too. They pull me down with them. I stumble into my dad's arms which wrap around me like steel bands.

"And I wanted to keep you in Brooklyn." He kisses the top of my head. "Christ, baby girl." He holds me at arms' length. "You took my breath away."

"Isabella!" Mom's voice cuts through the hubbub around us. I freeze.

"_Isabella Marie Swan_!" She pushes through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. Then looks me over from head to toe and she wipes some tears from her eyes.

"That was my favorite one yet. Will it be on the YouTube soon?"

My dad holds up his cell. "Got it right here, Renee."

Suddenly Edward's there with us. My dad looks between Edward and me for a quick second, then slings his arm over Edward's shoulder like they're old friends. I open my mouth, but I'm not sure what to say. I left it all up on the stage.

"That was…" Edward shakes his head but doesn't finish his thought.

"You ever hear anything like that before?" my dad asks him.

Edward doesn't take his eyes off me. "No," he says. "Never. That wasn't _Lust_."

No, it wasn't.

That was love.

"She's really talented," Mom tells everyone, like she's just realizing it for the first time. "And singing about _God_? I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Pretty sure it was about sex, Mom," Rose says. "So hot," she whispers in my ear. "Jesus, kiddo."

"I don't know, Rosalie," Mom argues. "What about the angel? And all the stained glass?"

"What about all the blasphemy?" Rose counters.

Mom and Rose look to me for answers.

"It could be either? Or it's both at the same time." My eyes flick to Edward and I can't look away. "Maybe how someone feels about themself might change what they hear in the lyrics. It's just like how we see ourselves and how other people see us. It can be totally different, almost opposite, but each perspective is still right. Both good and bad, saintly and sexy."

Edward looks overwhelmed. Like he has something to say but has no idea how to say it.

"I never..." Mom says. "How in the world did you come up with something like that?"

"Heard it somewhere," I shrug, still looking at Edward.

Rose clears her throat. She checks me with her hip, then pulls me in for a very strong, sisterly hug. "You're giving yourself away," she whispers in my ear.

Then she leans her forehead against mine. "Was it about him?"

I nod just a little. Enough for her to feel my head shake, not enough for anyone else to notice. "I just, I just…"

The whole family's watching me. Edward's watching me.

Shit. I'm going to cry.

Rose takes my hand. "Time for me to pump and dump," she announces very loudly to the crowd. She pulls me toward the restrooms.

xXxXx

In the ladies room, Rose checks each and every stall, knocking them open like she's looking for a fugitive. When she's sure we're alone, she starts pulling her arms from the straps of her dress.

"Rose?"

Before I know it I'm face to face with the prettiest pair of titties in all of Brooklyn. For the second time in less than a week, mind you. There are no excuses this time, though. Eddie's home with a sitter.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I told you." She pulls out a black tote stashed under the counter. "Don't want to kill Eddie. His liver's about as big as a lima bean."

Rose starts assembling a contraption that looks like… oh my God.

"Are you going to…" Then she starts pinching her nipples. Fluid beads at the tips. "Oh my God. Yes, yes you are."

I cover my eyes and turn my back to her.

"Listen, if you're grown up enough to have an affair with a priest, you should be able to handle the realities of breastfeeding."

"A _what_? With a who?" I spin around and find Rose hooked up to… ugh.

I will never have kids.

Not ever.

"Tell me everything," Rose insists. The rhythmic click and suck of the breast pump is as disturbing as it is soothing. I try not to look but it's like a traffic accident. In a topless, life-sustaining kind of way.

"First of all, I'm not having an affair," I try to explain.

"Um, yes you are."

"But I'm not."

Rose rolls her eyes. "That's not what Father Edward said."

"What?" I ask loud enough to make the stalls rattle. I think people could probably hear my question in Bay Ridge.

"You two are really bad at affairs, by the way. You may as well write it across your foreheads."

I collapse against the counter. "What in the world did he say? _When_?"

"He talked Emmett's ear off last night. About your style, your music, how wrong you are about comic book characters. Kept pumping him for info about you in high school."

"Oh, God. _High school_?" I drop my head into my hands. There's so much I haven't had a chance to tell Edward. If he heard about it from Emmett over drinks… with my dad there... _Jesus_.

"He couldn't get enough of Emmett's stories. Even the one about your take on Lady Gaga's meat dress. If the guy still likes you after hearing about Lady of the Lox, he's got it bad."

Suddenly my chest feels too tight. Of course he liked every story.

Sexy, loving, accepting… _priest._

Rose is right. I never thought about it that way. But I am one hundred percent having an affair with a priest.

When I look up at Rose the smile falls from her face.

"Oh, baby… You've got it bad too, huh?"

I bite back my confession. I try blinking back my tears, but one renegade escapes and slides down my cheek.

"Stupid, goddamned, watery eyes," I mutter. "All fucking night long."

Rose brushes the tear away. Like a mom who cares. "It's probably good you're getting out of here."

"Yes… No." I shake my head and start to really cry and Rose pulls me into her arms.

"He's helped me so much. I don't know how I'm supposed to leave him behind. But staying doesn't make any sense either."

I cling to her for support.

"Shh, baby," she hums. "I know."

"I've never, Rose. You know? Like ever. And now..."

Rose rocks a little as she rubs my back. "I figured it was just sex."

"I can't even imagine that. With him. Not when... not when _not _having sex feels like this."

She lets me cry until my tears run dry. Until my breathing evens out. Until I'm calm and quiet enough that the rhythmic shuddering and clicking of the breast pump against my boobs reminds me that I'm hugging my topless, lactating sister in a public restroom.

I let her go and step back. I try to look everywhere except her glorious chest as she turns the machine off and pulls it all apart.

"I always knew that when you fell in love, it'd be hard," she tells me. "I just never imagined you'd fall for a priest."

I stare in the mirror and wipe smeared mascara from underneath my eyes. "I figured -"

"Alice," we say together.

"Right? Her and Father are thick as thieves. I was sure for a while." Rose pours herself back into her dress and smoothes it down.

There's no fixing my hair, but I give it a try. I start pulling at the hairpins when we hear people just outside the restroom.

"He was totally hitting on you," someone says from the other side of the door.

"Once a sleazeball, always a sleazeball. You _know_ he was cheating on her until -"

The door swings open and Rachel and Rebecca, two of Angela's bridesmaids, stop in their tracks. Rebecca's mouth drops open. Rachel hangs just behind her sister.

I narrow my eyes. "It probably won't take me three tries to guess the sleazeball in question."

Rachel's head drops into her hands.

"Yeah, probably not," Rebecca says. "You and the douche go way back."

Rose practically growls. "You too?" she asks Rachel as she dumps out two little bottles of breast milk into the sink.

"Only because _I _blew him off," Rebecca tells us. "Can't you two talk some sense into Angie?"

"Don't look at me," I tell her, holding up my hands. I did my part and practically tore the family apart in the process.

Rose shakes her head. "I really hoped he'd changed. He told Emmett he turned over a new leaf after he had to get his hand stitched up."

I cringe. "Emmett talked to Ben about _me_?"

"Emmett talked to Ben about _Angela_, you idiot."

"It's not all about me," I mumble to myself.

"With Ben Cheney it's about anyone with two tits and a pair of legs," Rachel agrees.

"How are you supposed to stand up there with her tomorrow?" Rebecca asks her sister. "I just don't -"

The restroom door swings open and Angela stands in front of the four of us.

"- get it," Rebecca says, finishing the sentence. "Hey, Ang!"

Rebecca smiles cheerfully. Rachel stares at the ceiling. Rose looks like she's ready to fight someone. My sister's eyes flick from one person to the next, until she's left glaring at me. Then she turns and the door slams shut.

Rachel's face drains of color. "Oh my God."

"Do you think she heard?" I ask Rose, who's practically throwing all the pump supplies into the tote bag.

Rebecca starts laying into her sister. Rose and I dash out of the bathroom, but Angela's nowhere in sight. The lights are low, the tables have all been pushed to the side, couples sway in the center of the room as some ballad or another Alice is singing comes to an end.

"Rosie!" Emmett calls over the mic. "There you are, babe! Just in time for our song."

"Em, I don't think -"

"We planned this," Alice hisses as she jumps down from the stage. "You promised."

"I'll find her, Rose. You go ahead," I tell my older sister.

Rose squeezes my hand and rolls her eyes at Alice, before making her way toward her husband at the front of the room. I don't see Angela anywhere as the first notes of _Islands in the Stream_ are piped over the loudspeakers.

"Rosie and I sang this at our rehearsal dinner," Emmett tells everyone. "Figured it turned out so good we'd sing it for Angie and Ben."

He gazes into his wife's eyes and any hint of annoyance fades from Rose's face. Her fingers seem to cling to his a little longer than necessary as he hands her the extra mic. She relaxes against him as his arm slides protectively around her waist.

"_Baby when I met you there was peace unknown…" _

Any other day of my life I'd die laughing at Emmett impersonating Kenny Rogers. Tonight I'm caught up in how much they love one another. I used to take it for granted. But if they feel half of what I do for Edward, and they get to spend their lives together…

"Stupid fucking tears," I mutter, wiping at my eyes again. If Angela feels like this for Ben, she needs all the help she can get. I take one more look around the restaurant, then make a beeline for the exit. I don't get far before someone grabs my arm.

"You don't have to leave just because Jacob's not here."

I spin around to face my mom.

"That's not it," I try to explain.

Mom knows what I'm trying to hide better than I do. She pays close attention to my eyes. "I'm sure you'll find someone soon. Someone who can appreciate you. Who gets you." Mom's trying to be kind. I know this, but it still cuts like a knife. Not to mention, I have a missing sister to find.

Mom scans the room, then her eyes light up. "Father!"

"Oh, Mom… no."

"I'm sure he'd do us a favor. He's such a good man."

He is. He's the best man. He's the man a freakin' bishop told me I'd ruin. He's the man I think about all the fucking time. He's the man heading this way.

"You need something, Renee?" Edward asks.

He's talking to Mom, but he can't take his eyes off me. His face looks flushed, but I don't think it's from liquor. He's been holding a glass of water in his hand all night long.

"Would you dance with Bella? Jacob's working at Billy's and she's got no one tonight."

Edward rolls his eyes a little at Mom's mention of Jake. But then he glances at the floor with a smirk before his eyes meet mine. "I'd be happy to."

It's the fucking look.

"_You do something to me that I can't explain…"_ Rose sings in a shaky falsetto.

I clutch my mom's arm for support. Giggles erupt from my mouth because I'm stupidly, ridiculously excited to dance with Edward to Emmett and Rose's rendition of an 80's classic.

"I told you he would," Mom whispers in my ear loud enough for the whole room to hear.

She plucks the glass from Edward's hands and gives me a peck on the cheek. "Thank you, Father. I'm going to get them to wrap up some eggplant parm for Bella to take home. It's her favorite."

Edward and I eye one another awkwardly. Then he reaches for me, and it's like I don't have a choice. In his arms, everything clicks into place. My waist was made for the flex of his fingers. His shoulder was made for my hand to hold. He's not a dancer, but he leads me as we sway.

"You look like you were heading somewhere before Renee got a hold of you," he murmurs in my ear.

"Angie seem okay to you?" I ask.

He narrows his eyes. "She doesn't seem okay to you?"

"Angela and 'okay' do not belong in the same sentence." I scan the room for the millionth time. "Did you see her?"

Edward spins me around, forcing my eyes back to him. "I think Angela's more okay than most people give her credit for."

"Your faith's way off tonight. Maybe you lose some of your powers without the collar."

Not that I mind the sports coat, pale blue button down and the tie hanging a little loose around his neck.

"I don't know. I think it's pretty spot on. You're in my arms, aren't you?"

I can't argue with that.

"_All this love we feel needs no conversation…" _Rose and Em sing together. Their harmonizing is… something.

"Don't worry too much about Angela," he tells me. "I think she'll let someone know if she needs help."

He seems confident, but I get the feeling he's trying to convince the both of us. I can't blame him. He does have to marry them tomorrow.

He brushes some stray hair behind my ear and looks into my eyes, and I forget about my sister. It's suddenly like we're the only two people here. Like we have all the time in the world to just dance.

"Your teasing skills have improved. You've managed to drive me insane tonight." He peeks down at my sweater. "I have a confession."

I swallow nervously. I know a thing or two about his confessions.

"Right here?" I ask. "You sure?"

His eyes look like he's laughing, but his jaw is tense. His hands grip my waist more firmly. "The night you wore this, I dreamt about taking it off you."

"Yeah?"

He leans in to whisper. "And don't get me started on the skirt."

I bite back a moan. My forehead falls against his shoulder.

"I'm not the best dancer," he admits. "But I'd say yes to about anything if it means I get to touch you."

"I wish I had time to teach you," I tell him. "I think you'd be good at it."

I decide to let him figure out on his own whether I mean dancing or touching.

His smile fades and he takes a deep breath. "I've been praying for more time. It's selfish. I don't think it's the type of prayer God answers."

"Were you praying tonight?" I ask. "Because I'm pretty sure He took the night off. Not that I was..."

He smiles. It's smug. And he tries to look around like it's no big deal. "You were totally praying."

"Was not," I lie. I can't look at him when I do it, so I snuggle closer.

"Four Hail Mary's for fibbing," he tells me as he swings me around again. He's joking. I think.

"Go figure. You don't even need a dark, dank box. Not when you've got a good priest."

Stupid tears burn my eyes. I press my face into Edward's shoulder.

We sway back and forth. It feels like Emmett and Rose are on their fourth chorus, but I know the song can't go on forever. I don't want to waste this dance crying. Not when it might be the only time we have to dance together. When I'm pretty sure my eyes are dry, I try my best at smiling.

"You come to these things for the free drinks?" I ask.

Edward chuckles. "After last night I don't ever want to see a drink again."

"For the music, then?" I nod to Rose and Emmett on the little stage. They're nose to nose, her hand on his hip, his hand on her cheek, singing completely out of tune.

"Not exactly who I'd like to hear sing."

I feel my cheeks blush.

"Right, right… I almost forgot about _Fergie_."

Edward spins me and catches me in his arms, holding me a little closer. He bites his lip as he lays the look on me. My legs feel a little weak.

"Fergie didn't write a song for me," he says with a chuckle. "Or two?"

"She would." I pull away from him a little so I can look him over. I hum my approval. "She definitely would."

Edward's cheeks go pink. He pulls me closer, his arm tight around my waist. "Besides, I don't know Fergie."

I squeeze his shoulder. "Maybe someday. If you're lucky."

Edward shakes his head slowly. "I only have eyes for one rock star."

"Emily? Mariah?"

"_You_, Bella. You're all I need. You're more than enough."

"That's not true though."

I search his eyes. They're wide open. Clear. He looks damn near untroubled. I envy his faith, even though it's one of the reasons we can't be together.

"You don't just have a job, you have a calling," I try to explain. "And you're so good at it."

"Maybe it's not enough anymore."

His words send a shiver down my spine. As much as I want to hear them, I remember Bishop Whitlock's warning. I'm scared to death he's going to do something just for me.

I try really hard not to encourage him because this is bigger than me.

It shouldn't be about me.

It's not all about me. I couldn't live with myself if it were.

"You still want it though, right? The priesthood? The parish?"

"A couple of weeks ago, I wouldn't have had any doubts."

"But you do now?"

He bites his bottom lip as he stares into my eyes.

"I hope I figure it out."

"I hope you do too." I lean my head on his shoulder as we sway.

His arms tighten around me. I relax and try to memorize the way he feels. Solid and so strong, but gentle as he holds me.

I hope, too. I hope I can be careful with him. I hope nothing gets in the way of him helping people like he's helped me. I hope I can remember how much he cares, so after I leave, I can care about myself just as much. So I can remember how much I mattered and how good it made me feel. So I can remember how my heart grew enough to love and did the best it could.

I hope I do the right thing.

The song ends. People clap and whistle. I want to hold onto Edward tighter. My fingertips dig in where I hold him. And then I let him go.

Edward looks like he's about to ask me something when my mom cuts in and asks him to dance. He seems genuinely happy to oblige. Like he's the son she never had.

xXxXx

I finally find Angela sitting on the curb in front of the restaurant. Her arms are wrapped around her knees. Her chin rests against her chest. She's a shadow of the triumphant bride I saw in the church earlier in the evening.

I take a seat next to her. Not too close, since I'm probably the last person she wants to see.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Got a smoke?" she asks.

"I don't think smoking's so good for the bun you've got in the oven."

Angela rolls her eyes. "Thanks. I'm a nurse. I would know."

"Right. Jesus. If you're sure."

She's quiet as I rummage through my purse, pull out a cigarette, and try to find my lighter. I'm not excited to strike up a conversation. I can't think of a thing to say that I haven't already.

I watch the passing cars as I hold out the lighter. One puff and Angela doubles over coughing, practically retching.

She holds the lit cigarette away from her body. Her face is a pale shade of green.

"Christ on a cracker." She coughs. "Why do people like this?"

"I don't think anyone can help what they like. Who they like. You know?"

Rose loves Emmett. Alice loves Jane. I love Edward.

Angela loves Ben. She always has.

Hearts are stupid things.

Angela nods her head. She tries the cigarette again. She coughs again.

_Dear God, shouldn't someone else be here with Angela right now? Anyone else?_

I've forgotten it's Friday night, though. Vacation night for the Big Guy. There's not another person in sight.

I light a cigarette of my own, but make a point to blow the smoke away from my sister.

"This, uh, baby," she says, looking down at her midsection. "Shit, there's a baby growing inside me, Bella."

Angela looks at me and she seems scared, like she's thinking of making a run for it. But you can't get away from something that's literally attached to you.

I can imagine how she feels. I'm not even sold on the breast stuff. Not to mention acting like an incubator for a little human with gills and then pushing it out of your vagina.

"I get it," I tell her. "It must be weird."

Angela pushes some hair behind her ear. "You have no idea. This baby's going to have to be tough. Tough enough to handle one cigarette."

I pluck the cig from my sister's hand and crush it under the heel of my boot.

"You're one tough cookie, Ang. You don't have to smoke a cigarette to prove your unborn kid's chops."

Angela smiles. A few tears fall from the corner of her eye. "You're… I hated you," she tells me.

"Ha!"

"Don't tell me the feeling wasn't mutual, Bella."

And, no. I can't honestly tell her that.

"I hated the way Mom and Dad had to worry about you," I say instead. It's the truth. "I hated how they cried about you at night when they thought we were all asleep."

"Did you hope I died?" she asks.

"What?" I sputter.

"It's okay. I did sometimes. So Mom and Dad wouldn't have to be sad anymore."

"Oh, Ang." I reach out to hold her hand.

"You had everything I wanted, Bella. Everything I loved."

I'm not going to argue with her. I could, but I won't. Not tonight.

"Now you've got it. Right, Ang? Love… it's a lot to have."

I speak from the heart. Love is more than I ever knew, even though I don't get to keep it. Maybe it could be the same for her.

"Yeah, I guess," she tells me.

She holds my hand in silence while I finish my cigarette. I let it burn its way to the filter, then there's nothing left to do but put it out.

"Thanks for trying to be a good sister." She says it so quietly I almost don't hear it over the rush of the cars on the parkway. "I'm sorry. Like really sorry. For the record."

I squeeze her hand. "I'm not keeping score."

"'Cause I'd be winning?"

I pull my hand from hers. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Then I give her a hug. This time Angela is the one holding on a little too long. A little too much.

"Tell everyone I said goodnight?" I ask. "I'll see them tomorrow morning. Bright and shining. Big day and all."

"Okay, Bella. Goodnight."

* * *

**A/N: Jo and I are blasphemous fanfic writers. We don't do songs. We had ideas for the song Bella sang in this chapter, then iambeagle waltzed into our fb group and dropped off the link for an acoustic version of Borns' Holy Ghost. It's pretty damn close to what we heard in the lyrics, and this cover is pretty damn close to how we heard Bella's voice. It was like a sign the imaginary Big Guy approves, and that iambeagle is doing the Lord's work. If He were real, I mean. **

**Y'all know how this site is about links, but you can find this particular version of Holy Ghost on the YouTube (as Renee would say) if you search for Borns - Holy Ghost (raw acoustic version by Sarah Moss). We own neither - haha.**

**Thanks to SueBee for putting up with our ever-changing writing schedule. Thanks to ChrisAnn for giving each chapter her blessing. And thanks to hotteaforme for pre-reading and sending us pics of a really nice, ahem, chain. **

**And thank you all for your reviews, your thoughts, your theories, your jokes. They keep us writing and smiling. xoxo **


	34. Chapter 32 Concupiscence

**Chapter 32. Concupiscence **

**Father Edward**

I'm sober when the Uber pulls up to Bella's cottage. I've figured out how to put an address into the app properly, so I don't stumble out of the car and there's no angry driver. But this time she's not here to open the door for me.

We hadn't actually discussed our plans at dinner and she left without saying goodbye.

Maybe it was a hint she doesn't want me here.

The house is dark and I don't have a key, so I walk around to the back. She's not on the balcony. The blankets are still piled in a heap, just like we left them this morning.

Maybe she had other plans.

Maybe she's with her sisters.

Maybe they're at Billy's Place with Jake.

I contemplate my choices, feeling presumptuous. Then the sound of the waves floats over the dunes, and I decide to take a walk and look at the ocean. It'll give me some time to think before heading back to the rectory. If I'm being honest, I'm hoping Bella gets back before I leave.

I kick my shoes and socks off and leave them at the bottom of the stairs then follow a path out to the beach.

My thoughts settle as I walk. On God. The Church. Bella. Everything, really.

I may not have all the answers yet, but I'm sure that when it comes to my belief, my faith in the Lord, and what he wants for me, there is no wrong answer. Despite what the church might say.

I breathe easy. Maybe because I feel better about my relationship with Him now more than ever. Maybe it's because, away from all the businesses and streetlights, it's pitch-black and peaceful here. Moonlight ripples like liquid silver over dark water. Waves quietly splash, over and over, and it feels like they pull me toward the water's edge. The closer I get, the clearer a silhouette becomes, standing where the water recedes like she was planted there by God himself.

Like we were both drawn to this spot. This night. Together.

Or maybe I'm just drawn to her. I have been since the first time we met. But with every moment spent talking, laughing, every idea exchanged, I'm tethered tighter. I wonder if I had any choice but to be here on the beach with her right now.

She's got a blanket wrapped around her and it blows in the wind. She's lost in thought. I'm close enough to touch her when she turns around and sees me.

I give her a tentative wave. "Hey."

She smiles. "What are you doing here?"

I push my hands into my pockets and shove some sand around with my foot. "Just felt like this is where I needed to be."

"The beach?"

"With you."

Her eyes dip, but only for a second, then they're back on me. "I was just about to head up to the house."

I reach a hand out to her. "Lead the way."

Inside, Bella flips on a light by the couch. She closes the blinds and folds the blanket she brought in over a chair.

It's like she's lived here forever.

With me.

Thoughts of us together make my chest ache and my cheeks burn. More so as I watch her tuck some hair behind her ear. When she takes her lip between her teeth.

I watch her pick some clothes up off the floor then gather some scattered papers. Being this far away makes me itch. I've tried to keep my distance all night, but now that we're alone, I don't have to. I walk over to her.

"Hey," she says when she looks up, like she's surprised to see me standing there. "Want something? Anything?"

I shake my head but can't seem to stop staring at her.

"You sure? A drink? Another frozen pizza?" She smirks and gives me a playful punch in the arm.

I grin. "You?"

She laughs a little. "You have me, you dork."

"I mean" - I tug at her sweater then peek at her again - "you."

The sheets of notebook paper she's holding flutter to the floor. Her lips part. "Oh."

"I haven't had a drink all night."

She searches my eyes for something. "You're sure?"

I think about all the reading I did today, about the book of Ruth, sex, celibacy. About free will. About how it felt to hold Bella in my arms tonight. To look her in the eyes and feel the connection between us. To share things with her I haven't shared with practically anyone. How impossible it would be for me to deny my feelings for her.

Over what? A vow? To men?

I can't imagine God being cruel enough to put someone as perfectly flawed, openhearted, honest, and gifted as Bella on Earth for the sole purpose of teasing me, just to snatch her away.

Bella sees me. Understands me. Accepts me. Whether I'm a priest or not.

She's someone who's looking up to me for guidance. Right this minute.

I push some hair off of her shoulder. "I'm sure. You?"

Her lips turn up in a half smile. "Who do you think I got this big bed for?"

Her hands shake a little as she slides them around my waist, fisting my shirt like she's dying to take it off. If there was ever a feeling of safety, of faith, and of hope all rolled into one, it's feeling Bella's touch. Every time.

It's almost like the feeling I have when I hold the word of God in my hands. When I write a homily or stand in front of a congregation.

Only better.

This is more frightening. It's more true.

More everything.

I peek down at her sweater again. I caress the exposed skin where it hangs off her shoulder and remember how I imagined kissing her there. I never dreamed it would actually happen. Yet here I am.

Holding her in my arms isn't even close to being enough anymore.

I run my hands under the edge of her top, watching her carefully. She shivers.

"You're getting pretty good at this," she whispers, then looks into my eyes and lifts her arms over her head.

I try not to come off too unsure of myself as I pull the sweater up and off of her, letting it drop to the floor. "You should lower your expectations."

"If I did that I wouldn't be here with you."

Her words make my heart stop.

She can make me feel like the most important person in the world with so few words… sometimes just a look. This look. It's beyond me.

"I'm glad you are." I brush my lips over hers, then just below her ear. She tilts her head. I kiss her neck then her shoulder again as I reach around to the clasp of her bra.

And can't fucking… "How does this thing _work_?"

Bella smiles and presses a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth as she reaches around to unclip it. The black strip of satin and wire drops and... _fuck_. I'm shaking. I'm nervous. Inexperienced. Inept. In-

"Hey," she says and I stop to look at her. "If you don't want to…"

I sigh, trying to gain some measure of composure. _God, give me the strength to show her just how much she means to me._

"Bella." I take her face in my hands carefully.

"I want to." I kiss her forehead. _Bless her, Lord. _

"I've wanted to." I kiss her cheek. _Keep her. _

"I'll always want to." I kiss her lips and hold it, like a memory, a moment. One I don't ever want to forget.

_Cherish her. _

I hold her shoulders then let my hands skim over her arms to the swell of her breasts until I'm cupping them. They're beautiful. Perfect. I brush my thumbs over her nipples and watch them grow taut as the pink from her cheeks bleeds to the top of her chest.

Her breath hitches. It sounds shaky as she exhales.

I know I'm not her first. She's been with other men. Men far more experienced than I am. But the way she looks at me. The way she smiles. The way she blushes when I touch her. I feel like I'm enough.

_I hope I'm enough._

"Thank you for trusting me," I tell her.

She takes my face in her hands. "I've never trusted anyone more. You've got it backwards. I wish I…" Her hand trembles as it slides to rest on my shoulder. "I… I'm just glad. You're really sure?"

Two short weeks ago, my answer would be much different but now... "Absolutely."

She nods a little and takes a breath as she loosens the tie around my neck. She pulls it off and it drops to the floor. Then she untucks my shirt, and all I can do is remember to breathe. She unbuttons a button. Then another. Until she's done. When she pushes it off of me, it falls to the floor next to her sweater. Next to the tie.

Her fingers tremble as she starts to unbutton my jeans.

I take her hand and move it to my waist. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. Softly at first, but as she presses up against me, the kiss deepens because the two of us are here together, topless, skin against skin. I'm lightheaded and desperate.

Her hand slides over my jeans, just where I need it. "Fuck."

I kiss her again. She sighs. She rubs. I push myself against her hand with a groan. Our tongues meet and she slips her hand inside my pants.

I grab her wrist. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against hers. It feels good. Too good. "You might wanna slow down if you don't want this to be over before it starts." I'm trying to come off like I'm joking, but seriously… it's been a while.

She takes a seat on the edge of the bed, then takes a breath. "Still okay?"

"More than okay."

Her eyes flick from my jeans, undone now, and back to my face. She hooks her fingers in the waistband of her skirt and slides everything over her hips, down her thighs, and lets it all fall to the floor. "Still okay?" she asks.

Okay isn't exactly the word I'd use.

I steal a moment to take her in. All of her. From her windblown hair, to the ink just under her ribs, I follow the curves of her body to… Christ. That's a little black cross tattooed on her hip. And the way she's looking at me. She's nervous too. She's… "You're fucking gorgeous."

She waits, biting her bottom lip. Her chest rising and falling,

I have no earthly idea what to do.

Bella pulls her legs onto the bed and tucks them beneath her, then kneels so we're face to face. She rests her hands on my shoulders. Her fingertips trail lower - over my chest, over my vows, along my stomach. Until she's holding my hands.

The tips of her tits barely brush against my chest. She places a soft kiss on my lips.

"It's okay, Edward. We can stop any time. If you don't want to…"

I kiss her before she can say anything else. I don't hold back. I need her to know how much I want this because I don't doubt her. I don't doubt us. The only doubts I'm having are about whether I can make this even remotely good for her.

Bella sighs into my mouth and tugs my jeans over my hips. I push past all my insecurities and kick them the rest of the way off as we fall into the bed and I climb over top of her.

I hover over her for a moment, caught up in her eyes. Then something catches my attention from the end table.

"Bella?" I grab the ten foot long accordion sitting next to the bed and stare at them in awe as I start counting. "There's like fifty condoms here."

She groans, her hand over her eyes. "Don't mind Rose. One visit to Planned Parenthood and she's insane."

My head falls against her chest in a fit of sudden laughter. "Jesus."

"You, um, want some help with that?" Her eyes flick to the packet in my hand then down between us.

I hadn't thought about condoms. Only me and Bella. Considering everything I learned earlier, I think it's safe to say Bella's wishes are more important than what the church decided somewhere along the way.

So I sit back on my heels. Without another word Bella takes the packet from my hand. I close my eyes and try to concentrate on something besides how it feels to have her holding my dick, so I don't come before she can even get it on.

Like counting in Latin. That should work.

_Nihil, ūnus, duo, trēs, quattuor, quīnque, sex._

Fuck.

_Sex_.

I'm about to have sex.

Before I have a chance to fuck this up, Bella's there, kissing me, pulling me back down onto the bed with her. When I open my eyes, she's beneath me, naked.

I try not to dwell on everything I don't know and concentrate on what I do know.

Like… how to kiss her. I know how she likes to be kissed. I concentrate on the places I know are safe from the times we've been together.

Her back arches as I slide my mouth from her lips, to her neck, to a nipple. I manage to make her moan. She presses her body against mine, like she wants more.

I slide a hand between us. She's soft and warm against my palm as she rocks her hips.

"Edward, please," she whispers.

_Now what?_

Say a prayer? Lord knows I need it.

_Dear God..._

It's like Bella hears my thoughts instead. She takes me in her hand and guides me where she wants me to go. And fuck, she's so soft. So wet, it's so easy for me to slide into. And the heat is… "Christ," I say in a strained whisper. Like He has anything to do with this.

But all thoughts about God go out the window as I push into her.

It takes my breath away.

Oxygen leaves the room. My forehead falls against hers. All of my focus, all of my energy is concentrated here… in this connection between Bella and me.

I can't think. Can't speak. I don't know if I'm going to be able to move. I can only feel her. And me. Here. Together.

Bella's breath is on my neck as she moves her hips with me. As I move back.

It's overwhelming and… fuck. It feels so good. _She _feels so fucking good.

Her chest rises and falls in sync with mine.

I push again. Her legs fit around me, telling me to keep going.

I kiss her. She arches. I push. I groan. "Fuck."

Her fingertips dig into my shoulder, into my lower back. I bury my face in her neck. I kiss. I push. I fucking pray.

"Christ."

I push again.

"Edward," she hisses.

"_Fuck_." The blur of emotion is overwhelming. It's an explosion of ecstasy I didn't know was possible.

My lips collide with hers. It's rough and awkward, but she opens for me and I can't get enough. Of her mouth, her neck, her breasts. Everywhere I can reach. Every way I can make her feel… make her understand… she needs to know what she does to me.

As the high starts to fade, embarrassment creeps in. I'm pretty sure that was the fastest anyone has ever... in the history of the universe.

I fall onto my back and throw an arm over my eyes and try to catch my breath.

Bella's also breathing hard and fast at first. Then it slows. She rolls onto her side and kisses my shoulder. She trails her fingers over my thigh.

The weight of what's happened hits me. I can't seem to find a way to capture it in words. "Fuck," I groan. It's the best I can do.

"Edward?" Her voice is gentle, full of care.

"Hmm?"

Her hand slides around my waist. She kisses my cheek.

My arm falls away from my face and I stare up at the ceiling in search of something to prove this really happened. That I'm still here. Still breathing. With Bella next to me.

That I haven't been struck down by God. Or died of embarrassment.

Yet.

"Are you feeling guilty?" she asks.

I give it some thought. "I probably should," I huff, still out of breath.

"Adding it to your own list for confession?"

I think about that too. Really think about it. "No."

"But -"

"Bella." I roll to my side so we're face to face, practically nose to nose. I'm still trying to breathe.

I look at her - hair disheveled, cheeks pink, lips swollen. Her tits tempting me to touch them again, to take them between my lips. There are really no words for the complete and utter happiness she fills me with.

"Yeah?" she asks.

I place a hand against her cheek. She kisses my palm. Then I do what my fingers have been itching for. I stroke her breast and pull at the tip of her nipple. She hisses. Her eyelids flutter. She presses her chest into my hand.

"I'd like to enjoy this guilt-free for a little while, if that's okay."

She hums and slides her leg over mine.

"One thing, though," I tell her with a sigh.

"What's that?" she asks, but I can't meet her eyes.

"Edward? Seriously. Tell me what's wrong."

She sounds a little worried so I look at her with conviction. Determination. "I think I can do better than that."

Her expression morphs. Her concern is quickly replaced with _that_ smile. Brighter and more carefree than I knew possible.

She looks me over from head to toe then bites her bottom lip. She arches an eyebrow.

"Prove it?"

"Would you show me how?"

* * *

**A/N: Sooooo... THANKS to Sue, as always, for putting up with ellipses, schedule adjustments, and unexpected chapters. THANKS to Chrisann for her abundant blessings and to Hotteaforme for stepping in to pre-read these Heresy filled chapters for us!  
**

**If by some chance you're into music - The Daily Mail by Radiohead is a good one to listen to with this here blasphemy. **

**THANKS so much - from the depths of the dark, dank box for reading and leaving your thoughts, discussing these characters, and making us laugh in the group, in reviews, and tweets - you make our hearts full. SEE YOU SOON! **


	35. Chapter 33 Marriage

**Chapter 33. Marriage**

**Bella**

* * *

Sunlight filters through the blinds, little slivers of gold breaking through the darkness. I blink and roll over, and my heart stutters in my chest.

Poverty

Chastity

Obedience

Edward.

His naked chest rises and falls. Asleep and relaxed, the planes of his face are all sharp angles and sweeping curves - stubble along his jaw and skin slightly flushed. He has eyelashes like Bambi that should make no sense on a man. In sleep, they press against the skin just below his eyes. A sprinkling of freckles over the tops of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose make him look younger than he is.

My eyes travel lower, over his chest with its dusting of light brown hair, to the ripple of his abs, to the white sheet bunched just below his waist. Even in sleep he looks ready to practice again.

_Christ._

I close my eyes.

xXxXx

"Would you show me how?" he asked, biting his bottom lip.

My body shudders with the memory. He asked me with such earnestness and such intense desire.

I remember the way he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close, and the feel of him against me, already half-hard. I remember the pleasant burn between my thighs, my body aching for release.

With a quick kiss to his lips, I looked into his eyes and nodded my head. I couldn't help smiling but pretended to be serious.

"We're going to need a pen and some paper."

Edward began to roll away from me, but I held on tight, and he let me trap him there. On the bed. On his back.

"I was kidding, you dork."

He threw his arm over his face but let me pry it away.

"You're making fun of me," he huffed.

I climbed on top of him, skin against skin. As I slipped along his length, I felt him grow full beneath me. I flexed my hips, forward and back. He closed his eyes and hissed. His fingertips dug into my hips, lifting me off him.

"You want another thirty seconds?"

"It was at least ninety."

"Whatever the fuck it was, it was magic. I want you to feel the same."

"Here," I said, taking his hand. His finger between us, mine over his. A little pressure and I almost died. I knew it wasn't going to be difficult. Not there, with him, with the little bedside lamp still lit. I shivered. I rocked… our fingers, my hips. My hair fell over my eyes, so I caught just glimpses of him watching me - my face, my tits, where our hands worked together, and I was on fire. My body shuddered. My thighs clenched. My breath came hard and fast. I braced myself with my free hand on his chest.

"Do you… do you…" I brushed myself over him and couldn't finish the question. With another stroke I was dying.

"No, just you," he said. His finger slipped from underneath mine, sliding inside, fast and deep, and again. His palm pressed against my finger over my clit, and it's all it took. I gasped, as wave after wave of fire rolled through my body, and my mind felt like it came undone in an explosion of light.

I opened my eyes and there was Edward, wide-eyed and worshipping.

"Fuck," he whispered beneath me. He rubbed his hands over my thighs then wrapped them around my waist pulling me down so we were chest to chest. "You okay?" he asked.

"Um, you think?"

I brushed his nose with mine. Placed a soft kiss against his lips.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured.

I wiggled on top of him. "So fucking hard."

His eyelids fluttered. "You're gonna kill me."

I hummed. "I'd take that kind of death over and over again."

I peppered kisses over his cheek, his neck. I pulled his earlobe between my lips. "And again and again," I whispered.

"Again?" he asked.

"You have anything better to do?"

I yelped as Edward flipped me over so I was on my back. He knelt between my legs, reached for a condom with one hand, the other between my thighs. "Right here?" he asked with concentration. Dedication. His fingers were gentle, yet more certain.

I answered with a moan.

xXxXx

_Dear God._

I'm dying for more, but should probably let him sleep. We were up most of the night. I want to take care of him like I've never wanted to look after another person before. I want the best for him, whatever it is.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm murmuring a prayer I learned as a kid.

_Jesus, Eternal Priest, keep Your priests within the shelter of Your Sacred Heart, where none may touch them._

Mom taught us all when Father Volturi was sick. She'd make us say it each night before bed.

_Keep unstained their anointed hands, which daily touch Your Sacred Body._

I look down at his hands. So relaxed. His nails are neat and trim. I wonder about the rough pads on his fingertips. Another question I have left to ask. There are so many. I close my eyes and remember the way those hands clenched my thigh and my hip that second time he came.

_Keep unsullied their lips, daily purpled with Your Precious Blood._

After all his talk about kissing, he finally pressed his lips over my belly, then over my hip, over my first tatt - a little black cross - then moved to my inner thigh, before finally placing a soft, chaste kiss between my legs.

I sighed, pressing myself against him, and he kissed his way back to my mouth.

_Keep pure and unearthly their hearts, sealed with the sublime mark of the priesthood_

I watch the thud of the pulse in his neck then read the vows over his heart. Some might say what we did last night wasn't pure, but they'd be wrong. He didn't hide anything. He didn't hold back.

He cared about me completely so I let myself care right back. I let myself enjoy every second and I let him know what felt good. What tickled - laughing until tears sprang to my eyes. What he might like.

I don't think I ever really knew joy, not until last night.

_Let Your holy love surround them and shield them from the world's contagion._

I love him. Totally. Completely. Undeniably.

_Bless their labors with abundant fruit and may the souls to whom they minister be their joy and consolation here and in heaven. Amen._

He is my joy. My consolation. I don't know if there's really a heaven, but he brought it here. To me.

I snuggle up next to him, careful not to wake him. He rolls to his side in his sleep. His arm pulls me close. His face is buried in my hair. He sighs. I close my eyes and try to stay awake. I want to remember everything. The rhythm of his heart. The scratch of his stubble on the back of my neck. His knee wedged between my legs. His breath. His warmth.

Every minute. Every second. There are so few of them left.

xXxXx

When I wake up again, it's to the smell of coffee. I roll over, but the bed next to me is empty. Then I open my eyes and see Edward in the kitchenette wearing just a pair of boxer briefs.

_Dear Lord. Thanks. Love, Bella._

When he turns toward me he's got a steaming mug in each hand. His eyes meet mine and he smiles. His cheeks go pink. It's hot and adorable.

"Morning," I say. I sit up and the sheet falls around my waist. Edward's eyes dip.

"Should I?" I cover myself as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands over a mug.

"I actually prefer you didn't," he says with a coffee-flavored kiss, one that quickly builds and threatens to spill hot coffee all over us. So I reluctantly pull away.

"You're so goddamned sexy in these." I run a finger underneath the waistband of his briefs.

"You're sexier without." He reaches his hand beneath the sheet, clutching my bare hip. He sets his coffee down and pulls the sheet away, covering me with his body instead.

I giggle. "Again?"

"Practice makes perfect," he says between kisses. "We just have to make it fast."

"I think you proved that's not true." I put my coffee down, roll him over and climb on top of him.

"Breakfast should be here in ten," he explains.

That leaves nine and a half minutes I wouldn't want to spend any other way.

We eat on the balcony. He's wearing his jeans, I'm wearing his shirt. We're bundled under a blanket since the air's getting chilly. Fall's on its way. Pretty soon the leaves will be changing. It's the first year I think I might miss it.

Edward pulls my feet into his lap and rubs them gently.

I wiggle my toes. "Ask me anything?"

"Sure. Where to next?" he asks.

"I mean, my parent's house. Then the church. My sister's getting married."

Edward rolls his eyes. "When you get on the plane tomorrow, where will it take you?"

"Minneapolis. Then Des Moines and Kansas City." I sigh and try to ignore the urge to find my phone, text Alec, and call it all off.

"Are you worried about going back on the road… with Mike?"

My stomach turns. My hesitation has nothing to do with Mike Newton. I'm not sure how to answer.

"A little, I guess. I can handle myself, but it'll probably be weird at first. I'm sure he's moved on."

Edward looks out over the water, like he's concentrating on the horizon. "I don't think I could do it."

Of course, I know this. He's a priest. He's not going to follow me out on the road.

"Yeah, it's a weird kind of life. Not for everyone. For a while it didn't matter, though. It didn't feel like I had a home."

"And now?" he asks his mug.

"Now I wish I had one," I tell him honestly. It sure as hell doesn't feel like my apartment back in L.A. is home. Not my parents' house and not Jane's couch. This AirBnB is as close as I've come. I have to be out by three on Sunday.

Not to mention it's probably not the actual cottage that makes this feel like home, as cute as it is. It's the guy next to me, who suddenly seems scared to look my way.

"Maybe I'll have a home someday. A girl can hope, right?" I put down my coffee. I straddle his lap and make him look at me.

"I hope you get everything you want, Bella."

"Is it okay with you if I hope that for us both? Like in a silently talking to God kind of way?"

He reaches over and sets his mug down then rests his hands on my hips as he looks up at me. "I think that'd be more than okay."

xXxXx

The scene at my parent's house is as nutty as ever. Bridesmaids dressed in bright lilac satin jostle one another for mirror time. Alice's Maid of Honor dress is extra flouncy, but I don't even get a chance to give her shit for it. She's on the phone with the florist trying to track down a missing corsage. Mom's decided to channel her nerves into making sure everyone has coffee, tea, and bagels. There are half-filled mugs on every surface, just waiting to get knocked over by my nieces who are racing around the place scattering whatever they can get their grubby little hands on - marbles, popcorn, fistfuls of grass from the backyard.

Rose puts me in charge of little Eddie so she can lock down her daughters.

"You know who they remind me of?" she asks me.

I don't know what she's talking about. I never threw grass around the house. I suppose I do need to give Mom some credit, though. I did a lot worse.

Oddly enough, Angela is the calm in the middle of the storm. She's quiet. Patient. Deep in thought, but also somehow above it all. Like she's already moved on.

"Isabella!" Mom calls. "Your date's here!"

My heart immediately starts trying to beat a hole in my chest and I break out in a sweat. I have no idea why Edward would show up at the house. Did I forget my purse? Did he decide to leave the priesthood? I double-time it to the living room, trying not to drop Eddie, and I'm practically blinded by Jake's smile.

"Hey, Bella."

Right. I forgot. He's my date to this family function.

Jake glances around me at the chaos. My nieces race down the stairs with... is that Angela's veil? Then he looks me over and smiles. "You look good."

"Yeah, um, thanks. You too. You really didn't have to-"

"You have a minute?" he asks.

I close the door behind us as we step onto the front porch. Eddie fusses in my arms but calms down with some rocking and shushing. Jake smiles.

"You're good at that."

"Nah, Eddie's just a little angel."

"Yeah… _Eddie_."

I glance up from my nephew and… _shit_. "It's not what you-"

"I might have said things a little different if I knew who I was telling you to go after," Jake says.

I laugh. "Yeah, well too late now."

"A priest?" he asks, throwing his hands up. "He's definitely taken. I feel like an idiot giving you such stupid advice."

"Don't feel bad. I had the best week of my life." I wouldn't take it back for anything.

Jake smiles like he's being brave. He looks off down the street. "Yeah, well, you still want me there as your date?"

"You're family, Jake. I'm sure Ang would love it if you came."

He looks between Eddie and me, then back to the house. We hear my mom yelling about the veil. The front door's thrown open and my nieces tear past us laughing.

"I'll go if you need me," Jake says. "But I don't know if it's where I should be."

I've got my hands full, so I lean my forehead against Jake's shoulder. "I got this, Jake. Thanks."

xXxXx

Angela doesn't talk to anyone as we drive over to St. Mary's. She lets Rose fuss over her make-up as we wait for the ceremony. She has no opinion on whether Alice should divide two corsages in half to make up for the one that's missing.

One of my nieces stomps on Angela's train, and I think Mom's head is going to explode.

"It's fine, Mom," Angela tells her. "It doesn't matter."

Mom beams at my sister like she's looking into the face of God. "You're right. It's not about a dress. It's about you and Ben and the rest of your lives."

"Yes it is," she says. Her hands ball into fists. If Mom notices, she doesn't let on at all.

I try to head to my usual spot in the last row of pews, but Emmett beats me to the punch.

"I'm not going to let you hide back here. Family's up front, Bella."

Emmett seats me in the second row next to a little, old woman with lavender hair. She looks vaguely familiar, but my attention is elsewhere. Because family's not the only thing up front. Edward's there too. His collar peeks out from underneath his robes as he talks quietly with Ben. While I know this marriage is doomed, I can't help but have a little bit of hope knowing Edward's going to help them through it.

I may not have faith in God, but I have faith in him. I know he's going to try his best for them.

Almost like Edward can hear my thoughts, he glances over Ben's shoulder and our eyes meet.

His brow dips. He looks around then back to me and something changes. Ben's talking, but Edward isn't paying attention to anything he's saying. He's very busy. Watching me.

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat. He takes a deep, steady breath, and I remember the way it felt to have his chest pressed against me in bed. The way those hands felt on my hips. The way he spread and pushed.

I'm dimly aware of the pews filling up, and groomsmen walking Mom and Mrs. Cheney to their seats. Edward claps Ben on the back as the bridal party starts walking down the aisle.

Ben's sweating. I'm glad he's worried.

My family is fierce. I'm not the only one of us who sees Ben for who he is. Rose and Emmett are on the lookout too. It'll only take a little bit of work to get Alice on board. Ben doesn't know what he's in for.

Everyone stands when the organ begins playing the first notes of the wedding march. The doors of the sanctuary are thrown open and bright light streams inside.

People murmur as Angela walks slowly down the aisle with my dad. She's beautiful. Her dark brown hair is swept up, with little curls surrounding her face. Her skin is really pale, the kind of skin that looks as fragile as a bird's egg. She's flushed a pretty shade of pink, and her eyes seem huge. After everything that's happened these two weeks, she seems completely at peace.

Maybe that's faith.

I clearly have no idea how it works.

Once Angela's made it to the altar, I settle in, ready to watch Edward for a solid hour. He doesn't look at me once the ceremony begins, and I don't take it personally. He concentrates on my sister and I love him a little more for it.

He talks to Angela and Ben like they're the only people in the church. He speaks like this is something monumental.

For the first time in my life, I think I get it.

Marriage isn't something you want to fuck up.

My heart aches for my little sister and for Edward, both up there trying to do the right thing.

"Now Emmett McCarty will read to us from the book of Genesis, chapter one, verses twenty-six through twenty-eight," Edward says.

Emmett starts to walk toward the pulpit with a folded piece of paper in his hands.

Angela clears her throat loud enough for the whole church to hear. "Actually, I think I got this, Father," she says.

"It's okay, Ang. I won't forget the words again. I've got it written down," Emmett calls out, holding up the paper over his head.

People in the audience laugh under their breath. Patrick wails.

Angela rushes to meet Emmett at the pulpit where she urgently whispers something in his ear. Emmett's eyes go wide, and he looks like the cat who ate the canary as he takes his place back by the line of groomsmen. He shoots Alice a look, but she just shakes her head in bewilderment.

"Really, Ang?" Ben calls out. He looks exasperated, like he's about to lose his shit.

"Shut up, Ben!" she orders. She grips the podium and looks out at all of her friends and family gathered in the church. Her smile looks determined.

"What in the world?" I hear Mom whisper to Dad. He clutches her hand.

Angela takes a deep, shaky breath.

"Anyone who knows me, knows I've loved Ben from the first moment I saw him. I was eleven and he was playing tag with Rose and Bella. I couldn't run without coughing, but I wished I could just so I could tag him." Angela stops and looks over at Ben. "I finally tagged him, huh?"

People laugh. Mom seems like she's about to bolt for the pulpit, but Dad wraps an arm around her shoulder. "Let her do what she's gotta do, Renee," I hear him whisper.

"And then we found out we were pregnant," Angela says.

People all around me gasp. The little old woman next to me starts fanning herself.

Angela nods. "Yeah, right? I was shocked too. Didn't know if it was even possible after chemo. It was a miracle. It still is," she says, one hand over her midsection, her eyes lifted heavenward. "Then Ben said he wanted to marry me and it was my dream come true."

She steps away from the pulpit and looks over at Edward, then at Ben. "It doesn't mean I didn't see your faults, Benjamin. I was just so sure my love was enough to change things. To change you."

"Wait, Ang-" Ben starts to say. He takes a few steps toward my sister, but Edward places a hand on his shoulder and holds him in place.

"You cheated on me, Ben!" Angela shouts, her voice cracking, tears in her eyes. "More than once. More than I probably know. You tried to make out with one of my bridesmaids at our wedding rehearsal dinner, for crying out loud!"

Edward's actually holding Ben back at this point. There's hubbub all around me. Alice dashes across the altar to Angela's side. Rose hands Eddie off to Mom, and rushes to join them. My sisters stand on either side of Angela, ready to catch her in case she crumbles.

Angela looks out into the audience and her eyes settle on me. "I tried to blame my sister, Bella, for my fiancé's behavior. It wasn't fair. I'm sorry for that, Bell. I wasn't ready to face what all of this meant for me," she explains, like she's just talking to me, sister to sister.

I feel the eyes of everyone in the sanctuary turn my way. I'm tempted to slide lower in the pew, but then I catch the way Rose and Alice are looking at me, and I know how much they care. I see the look of pure devotion in Edward's eyes as he watches me. I sit taller. People can think what they want. It's what they were doing already.

I decide to wear my scarlet letter with pride.

"It meant I was scared," Angela says. "And I still am."

My sister turns back toward Ben. Tears are streaming down her face. She takes a few slow steps in his direction until it's just Edward that's separating them.

"I can't marry you. I can't do it, Ben. I'm more scared to be your wife than to be an unwed, unloved mother. Because you're a selfish, smooth-talking, two-faced son of a motherfucking bitch."

"Jesus Christ, Angela. What the fuck?" Ben tries shoving Edward, and Emmett steps up to help hold him back.

Mom gives the sign of the cross and hides her face against Dad's chest.

"Go to fucking hell, Ben Cheney!" Angela shouts, wiping at her tears. "From the bottom of my fucking heart, go to fucking Hell!"

I jump to my feet and clap, slow and loud. I'm proud of my sister and so ready to put Ben fucking Cheney behind us all. The sound of my clapping echoes through the sanctuary. When I look around, I notice I'm the only person standing. Definitely the only person applauding. If all eyes weren't on me before, they are now.

"Sorry," I say to our guests, then smooth my dress and sit back down. "I'm not really sorry," I whisper to the old woman sitting next to me.

"I wouldn't be either," she says and nods toward the pulpit, to Edward, who's looking right at me as he tries to hide a smile with his fist.

I know that move of his. I shake my head, like he should know better than to laugh at a time like this. I should know better than to smile, but I can't help it. Neither of us can.

"He's quite the looker, isn't he?" the woman next to me asks.

"You should hear his homilies."

Ben's not fighting to get closer to Angela anymore. In fact, he looks like he's ready to bolt. The Cheneys actually do. They stand up and start walking back up the aisle without a word to anyone around them.

"If it's okay with you, Father," Angela says, "There's not going to be a wedding today."

Edward's beaming as he wraps an arm around her shoulder. "It's fine with me, Angela."

"We should still have the party, though. Right?" Angela asks with a crazed laugh. She tugs at her dress like it's suddenly too tight, then starts to pull off her veil. "An 'I really dodged a bullet' party?"

This time I'm not the only one who stands and applauds. So does the woman next to me. So does my dad. Alice and Rose throw their arms around Angela. All of Rose's kids bum-rush the stage, jumping for joy. Emmett hollers and I think I hear him start talking to some of the other groomsmen about karaoke 2.0.

My family is the best.

xXxXx

Eventually, people start to filter out of the church. Some are talking about heading to the reception. Some are scowling. Some laugh like this has been the event of the year. I head in the opposite direction and meet Edward at the pulpit.

I punch him playfully on the shoulder. Any other kind of contact would probably end in a kiss. The wedding may not have gone as expected, but making out with a priest at the end might just be pushing things too far.

"Faith, huh?" I ask.

He smirks. "And some silent talks. With God."

"She came so close to making a mistake."

"I knew she wouldn't."

He says it like he's confident, but I can tell he's not so sure.

"You probably shouldn't lie when you're wearing all this," I say, nodding to the robes, the collar, everything literally and figuratively coming between the two of us.

"You're probably right." He lifts the stole from his neck, then starts pulling off the top layer of his robe.

"You mind?" I ask. I reach over and slip the collar out from the tabs of his shirt.

Edward exhales like he's been holding his breath. He stares down at me and it's intense and probably inappropriate.

"You had a hand in everything that happened up here, didn't you?" I ask.

"I just followed His lead."

"I'm glad about your faith. Your prayers. All of it."

I take Edward's hands in mine. Up at the altar. At the front of the church instead of hidden in the back. It shouldn't feel right, but it does.

"Smart, sneaky, sexy priest. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

"Marriage is a sacrament," he murmurs as he looks into my eyes. "It shouldn't be taken lightly."

"Did you ever think…?" I ask. "You. Marriage?"

"You?" he asks.

"I…" I don't know how to answer. There's only one thing I want to say and I can't.

I just won't.

It wouldn't be fair.

"Yo. Break it up!" Emmett booms from the doorway. "We've got a party to get to."

Edward drops my hands and starts to fold his robes over his arm. I look between Edward and my brother-in-law. Emmett winks my way.

"You coming, Ed?" he asks.

"Wasn't sure I was invited."

"Can't say the Cheneys will be there, so we've got plenty of room for one more. Not to mention, Bella's date ditched her this morning. Who else is she going to dance with?"

Edward smiles. It's all I can do not to kiss him right there. In the church. In front of Emmett. He holds up his robes. "I should probably change."

"Bella? Need a ride?" Emmett asks.

"I'll get one with Edward, if you don't mind."

"Yeah," he says. "Take your time." And he makes a motion like he's buttoning his lips and gives us both another wink before he heads back outside.

* * *

**A/N: Massive love to SueBee, ChrisAnn, and Kate. And to you for your reviews. **

**~ BDC & Jo**


	36. Chapter 33 and a Half The Rectory

**Chapter 33.5 The Rectory **

**Bella**

* * *

Edward takes my hand as we walk from the side door of St. Mary's to the back of the rectory.

"You want me to wait out here?" I ask.

"No," he says simply, like he's just another guy bringing his girlfriend home for the first time.

The kitchen's tidy, maybe a little bare. He opens the refrigerator. It's practically empty. "Want a drink?"

"Oh my God, yes."

He hands me a Stella and takes one for himself.

"Where's Jasper?" I ask. I'm not the bishop's favorite person at the moment.

"He's in my office at St. Mary's getting ready for tonight's Mass."

"You're not saying Mass?"

"He's pinch-hitting since I had the wedding this afternoon."

It sounds to me like Edward has the night off. His eyes meet mine as he takes a sip of his beer. It's like we both have the same idea at the same time. We have another night.

In fact, we're alone right now.

Suddenly our bottles clatter onto the countertop and Edward's lips are on mine. My free hand fists his hair. He pushes me up against the counter, lifts me onto it and fits his body between my legs. His tongue tastes like mint and cool beer. I arch my neck as he kisses his way to my collarbone, as he tugs at my dress and exposes my breast. He nips. He bites. I gasp.

I start pulling his shirt free from his pants. I can't wait to get out of this dress.

We hear a thump from the front of the house and Edward springs away from me, catching his breath.

"Is someone here?" I whisper.

"Come on," he says. He takes my hand and leads me up the back staircase.

His room is just like I remember it - white, neat, stark. His clothes from last night are folded on the only chair. He doesn't give me much time for casually checking it all out. As soon as the door's locked, he has me up against it.

His hand slides underneath the hem of my dress, up my leg, hitching it so he can gain better access to places he wants to explore.

And _dear God_, let him explore.

I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, but he's not making it easy. My head falls against his shoulder as he pushes my underwear aside. His other hand is tugging at the back of my dress, like he's trying to figure out…

"Here," I hiss and show him where to find the zipper.

He pulls and it slides easily, all the way down. When he's finished, I shrug my shoulders a little, letting the simple black dress fall to the floor.

He stands there, staring for a minute, taking in every inch of me. From my face that feels too hot, to my bare chest, to my lacy black undies, to my matching black heels.

His fingers go to his lips, like he doesn't want God to hear him. "Christ."

I hook my fingers under the waistband of my panties and slip them over my hips, then step out of them. "You're wearing too many clothes." I take a step in his direction.

He sucks in some air when I touch him, like it burns. I know the feeling. I'm on fucking fire.

I kiss him long, deep, and slow as I push his shirt off his shoulders. I stop just long enough to fully appreciate the Endgame t-shirt he has on before pulling it over his head.

_Finally. _Skin against skin, I wrap my arms around him. With one hand over his ass, I pull him against me and actually moan.

I can't wait to have him inside… _oh shit_.

I step back.

Edward searches my face. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't bring condoms."

He smirks as he plunges a hand into his pocket. Then he holds one up for me to see. "I figured... just in case."

_Christ_, how does he manage to look so fucking innocent when he's so goddamn wicked?

"You fucker."

"Was it too presumptuous of me?"

"It was fucking perfect."

With that settled, I make quick work of his pants. Before I know it, I have him in my hand. He tears the condom package open with his teeth and hands it to me. I slide it over him and he closes his eyes and bites his lip.

I fucking love what touching him like this does. I love that he doesn't hold back, that he lets me see just how much he likes it.

"Edward." He opens his eyes. I take his hand. "Come here."

The way he looks at me, I think he'd follow me anywhere.

He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. "The bed's back there."

"But I want you here."

He doesn't quite understand what I mean at first. When I back myself up against the wall and pull him flush against me, he starts to get the idea.

"I don't think-" he begins to say, but I kiss his mouth shut because, for the love of all that's holy, he needs to stop thinking so damn much.

I let his hands explore. The kiss builds. I wrap a leg around his hip and he finds just the right place to touch me. Just one damn night and he knows my body well enough that my leg almost buckles, and he has to clutch my waist for support.

My back is arched, pressing my breasts up against him. The crucifix on the wall hovers over us like a holy judgment. I really don't give a flying fuck.

Because, finally, Edward understands what I'm getting at.

Suddenly he's lifting me up without a word.

Wedged between the wall and Edward, with him hard and assertive, it's like all the air is forced from my lungs.

I start to say something. Or, at least I think I do. I know I'm making sounds, but I don't recognize any of them. Maybe it's Edward. All I know for sure is I feel him everywhere.

Before I can make any attempt to show him what he needs to do, or where to go, he's pushing into me with a strained, "Fuck." Sliding in, to the hilt.

"Yes," I breathe, gripping his shoulders with my fingertips. I nip at his earlobe. I try to pull him tighter. I need more. It's never going to be enough.

His head is buried in the crook of my neck. His lips are on my skin. His teeth nip and I'm losing my mind.

He pushes and Christ. I feel… everything.

"Edward," I moan.

"Fuck, yes," he grunts. He hisses. He lifts and pushes again, and again, finding a rhythm. Finding what works best for both of us. Until it's so deep and so hard that I come undone around him. My body shudders and my head falls against his shoulder.

When I look at him he's smiling. "I love... this look." He's breathless. Beautiful.

"I… I… You should keep going." I wiggle a little and he groans.

He pushes just a few more times. Hard and meaningful, so I feel all of him. In my chest. To my toes. He knocks my back against the wall as he leans into me, gasping for air. His chest shudders. His hands dig. A soft chuckle falls from his lips.

I'm not sure how long it is before I lower a shaky leg to the ground. Then the next.

He takes my face in his hands. He meets my eyes. His lips close over mine. His kiss is long and sweet. So certain, like he's telling me what he can't say with words.

I tell him right back.

"We should probably get going," I eventually admit, as much as I hate it.

He nods, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Stay at my place again tonight?" I ask. With my hands on his hips, my fingers hold him tight. I'm not willing to let go just yet. His smile is everything.

"Try to keep me away."

"Not a chance."

* * *

**A/N: Just a little half-chapter to tide you over until the end of the week. You know, while the world continues to explode and stuff. Everyone still out there? Still safe? We pray that you are... in an atheist kind of way. **

**Jo and I thank God for SueBee, and for ChrisAnn, and for Kate. And we also thank God for your reviews. Not that we believe in Him. Amen.**


	37. Chapter 34 Valediction

**CHAPTER 34 Valediction**

**Father Cullen**

No one seems to bat an eye when Bella and I show up together at Angela's non-wedding reception. Or suspect that I just pushed her up against a wall in my bedroom over at the rectory. Naked. They simply hand us each a glass of champagne like it's any other day. Any other party.

Bella clinks my glass and takes a sip. I watch her eyes close, her throat as she swallows, her tongue flick when she licks her lips after downing the entire drink.

Then I make myself look at anything and everything other than her. Hoping to hide how much I care about her, wishing I didn't have to.

It's loud and cheerful, with tons of friends and family to help make this something for Angela to remember.

Someone's managed to incinerate the B & C letters that used to adorn the wall behind the wedding party's table. They're black charred remains of what they used to be.

The A still hangs there, alone, and people line up to write their thoughts on the cardboard cutout.

Angela's bridesmaids have all taken it upon themselves to make adjustments to their dresses. Rebecca's cut the length of hers in half. Rachel's sleeves are missing. Even Angela's wedding dress has been altered. The train is gone. The lace is gone. Someone's cut the bottom half to resemble something Rihanna might wear in concert.

Not that I would know anything about that.

I might have another confession for Bella.

"Bella!" Charlie's voice rises above the crowd of people who've taken over the dance floor. He waves us over. He's smiling wide, like maybe he's been hoping for today's outcome all along.

I know the feeling.

Bella grabs my hand and pulls me over to him.

"You remember your Great Aunt Sylvia, right?" Charlie puts his arm around a small woman in a long flowing dress with waist-length lavender hair.

"Sylvia cheered with me for Angela back at church," Bella tells her dad. "She wasn't sorry either."

"She never is," Charlie whispers in my ear.

"I thought you might be little Bella when that strapping young man seated you next to me." Sylvia glances around until she spots Emmett bent over a nearby table, helping Liam cut up his food. "My, he _is_ strapping, isn't he. The way he uses that knife and fork..."

"Settle down, Sylvia," Emmett says as he glances from the older woman to me. He shakes his head then his eyes narrow. He gives me a nod and motions with his thumb to the corner of his mouth.

I mimic him and wipe at my lips. Then I see the red stain on my fingertip.

"Shit." I turn and wipe the rest of Bella's lipstick from my mouth. I hope.

Charlie wraps an arm around Bella's shoulder. "She reminds me of you, Sylvia. In more ways than one."

Great Aunt Sylvia looks from Charlie, to Bella, then to me where her eyes linger. I smile and try to ignore the fact she is ogling me.

"Nice to meet you, Sylvia."

"I would have liked to hear the homily today." She hums. "Pity. I hear you give a good one."

"Ed -, _Father _Edward's homilies are the best," Bella says. "He could make a believer out of almost anyone. Even me."

Sylvia's eyes go wide. "She's double-Catholic, Charlie? I should have guessed back at the church."

"I don't think that's really a thing," I try explaining. But no one's listening.

With a wink in my direction, Sylvia takes Bella's hand and leads her to a table.

I remind myself not to stare at Bella. But maybe a glance or two won't be too much.

"Um, Father?" Renee clears her throat, pulling my attention away from her daughter. "We really can't thank you enough for everything you've done for Angela."

She takes my hands in hers like I've just turned water into wine. Which might have been an easier task, all things considered.

"I really didn't do anything." I peek over at Angela, who looks lighter, and happier than I've seen her since we met.

"Bullshit," Charlie pipes in. "You saved our girl from that lying sack of-"

"Charles!" Renee scolds. Before he can get another word out she drops my hands and half-heartedly slaps her husband on the shoulder.

I laugh. Charlie laughs. He meets my eyes and narrows them for a second or two like he's got something else to say, then shakes his head and rubs at the back of his neck.

"Well, Father knows what I mean," he mumbles.

He's not wrong. I was relieved, and not a hundred percent sure how I'd get through the ceremony had Angela not beaten me to the punch.

Suddenly someone in the crowd taps a glass with their silverware and people begin to chant.

"Toast!"

Renee places a hand against my arm. "Oh, Father, would you mind giving it?"

"Me? No… I-"

"Come on, Ed!" Emmett yells. "Who better?"

I can think of a dozen others who'd be better, actually.

Charlie for one. He seems the logical person, buzzed as he might be.

Maybe even Angela. But she's looking expectantly at me, too.

"We'd be honored," Renee urges.

Fuck. I don't know why I'm nervous. It's not like I don't get up in front of most of these people every week. This is different though.

This is family.

Bella's smug, smiling like she knows I have no choice. Christ, I can almost hear her saying, "_Welcome to my world, buddy." _

So I pick up a glass of champagne, and I step up onto the makeshift stage.

It's quiet in the room. I'm sure everyone can see through me by now - the way I tend to watch Bella's every move, the way I gravitate toward her whenever we're in the same room. How despite the fact that I'm a damn priest, I can't seem to stop acting on the affairs of my fucking heart.

I look out at the people I feel closer to than I have to anyone in years, and the words come easily.

"A year ago, I came to St. Mary's not knowing anyone. I was just this new priest." I manage to stop myself from looking at Bella. "Placed here to guide a congregation that had lost its long-standing leader." I smile as I look over at Charlie and Renee. "The Swans were the first family to make me feel welcome."

Renee squeezes her husband's waist as she smiles up at me.

"Charlie, you were the first parishioner to welcome me to dinner at your house. Meeting your family was… _interesting_."

People laugh. Bella presses her lips together, watching me with bright eyes and admiration.

"I didn't have a big family growing up," I tell everyone. "I didn't have much family at all, actually. The Swans have a way of making me feel like I'm part of theirs, and I'll always be grateful for that."

Charlie gives me a proud nod. Emmett wraps his arm around Rose and pulls her close. She's holding Patrick, her head leaning against her husband's chest. Alice is beaming as she holds Angela's hand.

Bella's clutching her glass in both hands like she's trying to hide behind it, or maybe like she's ready to stop hiding altogether. Christ. I can't seem to stop looking at her because being with her makes me want this. Family. Friends. Chaos. All of it. With her.

The words, _please, don't go,_ pass through my thoughts but get stuck in the back of my throat. They're right there. All I need to do is say them and the entire room will finally know. I can't live without her. I don't want to.

But I can't be selfish. She has a life. One I'm not meant to be a part of after tomorrow.

I force myself to stop making this about me.

"Over the past few months, I've had a chance to get to know Angela a little better."

In just the past couple of days, she's taken charge of every aspect of her life.

"She's shared a lot. Learned a lot. Made tough choices."

Her lip quivers a little.

"You're going to be a great mom," I say, just to Angela. "You already are."

She's definitely about to cry, so I take that as my cue to end this speech.

"Congratulations on following your heart today, Angela." I raise my glass and everyone cheers.

Suddenly, I need some air so I set my glass down and head outside. I'm stopped, mid-stride, when someone's arms are flung around me, nearly knocking me backward.

It's Angela. She's most definitely crying.

"Thank you so much, Father. For believing in me. And listening. And… and… just…."

I hug her back. I let her hold onto me for as long as she needs. "You're welcome," I tell her quietly. When she finally lets me go, she smiles up at me like she's ready to face the world. Or, at least the people here to help her celebrate.

As she joins her family, I take the opportunity to slip out the back unnoticed. The Swans could use some celebrating and I could use a moment alone.

Once outside, I take a deep breath. I try not to let the fact that Bella leaves tomorrow overshadow the time I have left with her. Instead, I close my eyes and think over all of the moments we've shared throughout the past couple of weeks.

From the moment we first met in my dark, dank box to her visit to my office. Our night out in Manhattan. _That first kiss._ I savor that one for a few extra minutes.

After which, I feel the weight of a certain conversation I've been avoiding.

There's no putting it off now. Not out here. It's just Him. And me.

I step close to the railing and look out at the night. "I thought breaking my vows would feel different." I grab the railing and lean against it. "Like there'd be a clear sign that I'd failed you."

I swallow down the ache inside my chest. It has nothing to do with God and everything to do with Bella leaving.

"Maybe a bolt of lightning would strike and I'd abruptly feel lost. Ashamed."

I look up at the sky. The way the moon's hiding behind the clouds, it makes the night feel gloomier than it should. It's like I'm in my own personal version of a dark, dank box.

"I don't feel lost when I'm with her. I'm certainly not ashamed of what's happening between us."

It's more like I found something I didn't know I was missing. Or, she found me.

"Why would you -"

"Hey! There you are." I spin to see Bella standing in the doorway like a fucking Godsend, saving me from overthinking things yet again.

"Am I interrupting something?" She looks up at the sky.

I smile as she joins me at the railing. "Never."

"A silent talk, maybe?"

"Not so silent."

"Professionals do it out loud?" She folds her arms and leans back like she wants to watch.

I laugh. "I'm far from professional. Just thinking out loud, I guess. Wondering."

"First of all, you are literally a professional. You told me about poverty. I know they pay you for this shit. Second of all, anything you want to talk to me about? Or should I leave you alone with…" She looks upward again.

"The stars?" I ask.

"You know what I mean."

"The clouds?" I laugh.

"I'm not admitting anything, Edward."

"You don't have to," I tell her. "He knows."

"Oh my God," she says with a roll of her eyes. She steps away like she's going to leave, but I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her body against mine.

"Exactly," I whisper in her ear. "I was thanking Him for you."

Her body relaxes against me. Her fingers twine with mine. "I think you owe me a drink, buddy."

"I owe you a lot more than that."

I decide He won't mind if we sneak a kiss.

xXxXx

Back inside, people are doing more of everything. Laughing more. Dancing more. Drinking... a lot more.

Emmett's having a conversation with the DJ about setting up his karaoke sound stage. I try to duck out of the way. I don't want to get pulled into that again. I'm not giving up any of the time I have left with Bella.

In the back, behind the mob of people on the dance floor, I spot Alice… and Jane. They're talking to Alice's parents. Alice is holding Jane's hand tightly in hers. Jane's more dressed up than I've seen her before.

"Father! Bella!" Alice calls out and waves us over.

Bella rushes over and throws her arms around her sister and Jane.

I step up to the small circle. Renee looks relieved someone else is here. Charlie's got his arm around her like she needs some reassuring.

Renee clears her throat. "Father. Um... have you met Alice's…" She trails off awkwardly.

"Girlfriend," Bella and I answer together.

I smile and give Jane a hug. "It's good to see you."

"You mean Alice's fabulous, generous, welcoming, kinder than kind, very sexy girlfriend?" Bella asks her mother. "Yes, we've met Jane."

Jane grins and blushes. She's clearly unsure about being here. Something tells me that feeling won't last long.

Bella starts chatting her up about flavors of herbal tea and the best way to get raspberry stains out of rugs. She pulls her over to the bar talking about virgin mules, and I don't think I want to know.

Charlie leads Renee to the dance floor. Alice smiles as she watches her sister with her girlfriend.

"You were right, Father. I _could _trust Bella. Thanks."

I study Bella desperately, like I might forget what she looks like once she's gone. She seems more comfortable with her family than I've ever seen her before. She's the strongest of the Swans. She knows who she is, and she's not afraid to let everyone know it. It's a no-brainer that Alice could trust her. I'm not sure what that has to do with me though.

"Thanks?" I ask her. "For what?"

"If it wasn't for you I'd still be hiding at Mom and Dad's."

"You left all by yourself."

Alice looks over toward the bar and watches Bella and Jane chat.

"I'm going to miss her," she says. "She could have stayed with us. It's like I never really knew her."

I can't take my eyes off the woman who's become such an important part of my life. "I'm gonna miss her too."

"Yeah. I know." She takes my hand and squeezes. I let her. Because I don't trust myself to say anything else.

xXxXx

Hours later, I'm on the dance floor with Bella in my arms. If anyone thinks anything of it, they don't let on.

"I could get used to this," she muses.

"Wedding receptions?" I tease.

"Well, there should be more un-wedding receptions, if you ask me. That's not what I meant though."

I spin her around, trying to lead us to a less crowded area of the dance floor.

"I knew what you meant." I was thinking it too.

"I figured. You've been able to read my mind since the first time we met. It's one of the things I… really _like.._. about you." She leans her head against my chest.

"I'd really like to kiss you right now," I tell her as we slowly sway.

"I always want to kiss you. Also since the first time we met. It used to really freak me out."

"It's the collar, isn't it?" I'm half joking. I already know it's the collar.

"Only at first."

"It doesn't anymore?"

"I can think of like a dozen words to describe how I feel, but freaked isn't one of them."

She looks into my eyes. "Even though your ideas about Tony Stark are freakin' wrong. To say the least."

The shocked expression on my face is fake. My feelings about Tony Stark are not. "Those are fighting words."

"I'm ready. I think I can take you."

"How much time do we have?" It's meant to be in reference to another debate about the Marvel universe, but when I say it, it hits me. We have less than a day.

With Mass in the morning, we really just have tonight.

She shakes her head like she's thinking the same thing. "Not enough. Not even close."

"Bella?"

"Edward." She glances around the room, then gives me a quick peck on the lips. "Let's go home."

xXxXx

After we finish off the leftover eggplant parmesan from last night, Bella falls into her bed, naked and unabashed. It turns out sex makes you extremely hungry.

I roll onto my side and lean on my elbow. I push the hair away from her face. I want to see every smile, every look, every line so I'll remember them all once she's gone.

"I still can't believe Ang actually called things off," she muses, staring up at the ceiling. "She's officially a badass."

I can't help but smile, watching her. "You thanked Him, didn't you?"

She peeks over at me. "Maybe."

It's all she's going to give me. I'm okay with it. We both know she thanked Him.

"I was a little bummed, to be honest."

She looks shocked. "Really?"

"Not that Angela didn't get married, it's just… it's a shame is all."

"Um, why's that?" She rolls over to face me and slides a hand over my waist.

"Well, I mean, I had this whole homily I was gonna give." I try to blow it off like it's no big deal.

It's a big deal. I practiced all morning.

Bella giggles as her head falls against my shoulder. When she looks up, she's smiling just for me. "You could try it out on me if you want."

"What?"

"I'm game," she says with a kiss. "I love your homilies."

"Okay." She's nuts. Not that I'm complaining. I was really looking forward to it. "It's from First Corinthians."

"You might have to refresh my memory on that one."

I think she's bluffing. She knows more about the bible than she's willing to let on.

I watch her, watching me. Naked. Beautiful.

I can't think of a better time to recite it, actually.

"Maybe I don't have to repeat the _entire _homily," I tell her, much more serious than just a moment ago.

She raises an eyebrow. "I love it when you paraphrase. Talk dirty to me, Edward."

All of a sudden I'm fucking nervous. But I'm also feeling pretty good about what I'm about to try.

"Okay." I nudge her onto her back and climb over top of her, hovering. "It starts like this."

I lean down to kiss her. Her hum vibrates against my lips.

I pull away a little and Bella smirks. "I don't know any bible verses that start like that."

"Do you want me to recite this or not?"

"When the alternative is you on top of me?" She rolls her hips.

"The alternative is better," I tell her. "I mean, I think."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Then lay it on me, Edward."

So I do. Not before I kiss her one more time for luck.

"Love is patient," I whisper against her lips.

Bella gasps.

I swallow. My heart pounds in my chest. Then I force myself to keep going.

"Love is kind." I graze her jaw.

"It doesn't envy." Then her neck. _Bless this neck, Lord._

Bella exhales and runs her fingers through the hair on the back of my head as I inch my way down her body. Her chest rises, her hips tilt, she rubs her legs together subtly, almost imperceptibly.

Christ.

"What comes next?" she whispers.

Fuck. What's the next line?

Right...

"It doesn't boast." I work my way between her breasts. She arches.

No way I'm making it through this alive, but I'm willing to try.

"It's not proud." I kiss the tip of a nipple then blow, before closing my lips around it. I do the same to the other.

I peek at Bella to make sure we're all good. Her eyes are dark as she watches me. It makes me harder than I already was. But this isn't about me.

"It doesn't dishonor others." I slide a hand between her legs.

"It's not self-seeking." She moans as I slip a finger inside her. Her eyes close, her lips part. Her head falls back. She makes that noise I love to hear.

"It's not easily angered." I rub soft. Slow. Just where she showed me last night and again this morning. Her brow knits. "It keeps no record of wrongs."

"Fuck, Edward," she moans a little louder. My heart skips a beat because that sound, _and _my name? I could never have imagined it in my wildest dreams.

But back to the bible… I place my lips against the inside of one thigh. "It doesn't delight in evil." Then the other. "But rejoices with the truth."

I nudge her legs a little wider as I kneel between them. I gently press two fingers into her. She's so fucking warm. So fucking wet. So fucking beautiful.

She fists the sheets and presses herself into my hand. "Yes," she hums.

I want to be inside her in the worst and the best kind of way. But not until this is done. Until she's undone.

Her body trembles around me as I pull my fingers out a bit.

"It always protects." I push again. "Trusts." And again, deeper. I can hear how wet she is. "Hopes...perseveres."

Bella raises her hips and fuck if it's not the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

"Love never fails," I tell her, spreading her open. "Where there are prophecies, they will cease," I whisper against her and watch her squirm.

"Please stop moving?" I beg, trying to get my bearings.

"Oh my God," she hisses, but she relaxes her hips.

"Where there are tongues..." I press my lips against her clit.

She presses herself against me. I lick, I suck and she forgets the sheets. Her fingers are in my hair. Pushing. Guiding.

The more I lick, the more she gasps. So I do it again, dipping fingers, finding spots. Ones I know she likes. Ones that are new. Ones that make her cry out.

I take a moment to really look at her, open before me. Ready, willing, trusting, waiting. I'm in awe.

"They will be stilled," I murmur.

"Don't you dare still your tongue now, Edward," she whimpers. So I don't. I slide my tongue inside her. I make small circles. I put pressure where she wants it. I suck where she needs it. When she finally comes, she doesn't scream. Her entire body shows it.

Clenched muscles.

Arched back.

Hips rocking.

I could watch this my entire life. I wish I could.

Bella and I are both breathless, but there's one more line.

"Where there is knowledge." I kiss her again where she likes it the most. She shudders, complete. "It will pass away."

I start working my way back up to her belly, her breasts, her neck… her lips.

Her kiss is hard and deep.

We're chest to chest. Her hands in my hair. Her legs wrapped around my hips, like she can't get close enough.

Neither can I.

When she finally speaks, she seems _surprised_. "I had no idea. How did you -"

"The internet," I tell her, in between breaths, proud of my research.

Her mouth falls open. "You looked up... _porn_. For me?"

"God. _No_." I bark out a laugh. My cheeks burn. "Never."

"Then -"

"You can learn to do almost anything on Wikipedia."

* * *

**A/N: If we believed in Hell, we feel confident we'd be going there after the past few chapters. But since we don't, we hope you enjoyed this blasphemy brought to you by Hot Priest and Fleabella.  
**

**THANKS from the bottom of the dark, dank box to SUE for beta'ing three chapters this week. To ChrisAnn for continuing to eyeball the chapters and Hotteaforme for pre-reading like the bad-ass that she is. And THANKS go out to BitterLady for rec'ing us on their story Scars to Your Beautiful! You two rock!**

**And YO: TheFicChick is BACK y'all. New story posting (hopefully) daily - "So Far From Home". Dew...IT. While you're at it, you might wanna catch up on iambeagle's "Don't Delete the Kisses" if you haven't started yet. THEY ARE BOTH SOFA KING GOOD.  
**

**Until next time! **


	38. Chapter 35 Redemption

**CHAPTER 35 - Redemption**

**Bella**

* * *

Sleep is for suckers. Or at least for those who have all the time in the world.

Clothing is for people who can pick and choose when they want to undress one another.

Showers should always be for two.

Edward seems to agree as he comes up behind me while I finish brushing my teeth, slips a hand underneath the towel I wrapped around myself, then tugs it out of the way.

I wipe the condensation from the bathroom mirror so I can see the two of us - wet hair, damp skin. His vows in reverse, the mirror image of my important dates on my ribs. I run my finger over the spot where I'm putting the next one. I already know what it is.

Edward slides his arm around me, placing his hand over mine. And I press it there, where the date's going to go. His date. Ours.

He pushes my hair over my shoulder and kisses the back of my neck.

"What now?" I ask.

I feel an immediate twinge of regret when Edward knits his brows. I was asking about this moment. I don't want him to think I'm asking about anything else.

He gets it, though. He slides one hand up to cup my breast and pinch a nipple. I lean against the vanity for support. His other hand slides lower. I'm sore, but I don't give a fuck. I want to be so sore I feel him all through the Midwest. I want to feel him in Europe.

He watches what he does to me in the mirror and I feel him hard and ready against my back. I roll my hips, wriggle a little, pushing myself against him. I watch his reflection as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

I tip my hips so he falls, hard and heavy between my thighs. I press them together and gasp as I rub forward and back.

His eyelids flutter, his jaw clenches. Then he focuses on our reflection. I watch his expression change from gentle and considerate to hungry. Needy. Rough and raw, he pulls me against him, and with one strong push he practically picks me off the ground. I grip the vanity and he holds my hips. And we watch as he makes me come.

xXxXx

We've cleaned out the cupboards. We spike raspberry zinger with rosé, finish the last frozen pizza, and pass the last bottle of champagne back and forth between the two of us. Naked and bundled in blankets, we're sprawled on the couch, our limbs tangled with one another.

We tried Netflix, but it didn't last. I can't concentrate on anything but Edward. He's better than all of it.

The unused condoms sit in their protective packets next to my laptop like a sign this is all coming to an end. After they're gone, Edward will go back to being a priest. I'll go back to the rest of my life, something that's on the verge of being more fabulous than I ever dreamed. Without a priest in tow.

I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. I breathe him in.

"What time do you think it is?" he wonders out loud.

I shake my head. "I don't want to know."

He sighs as he places a hand on the back of my head. "Me either."

I lay against him, between his thighs. I try not to count anything - seconds, minutes, heartbeats. Instead, I pretend time stands still.

Edward runs his fingers through my hair. "Can I get you anything?" he asks. He kisses the top of my head.

I hold him tighter. "Just you."

"You got it."

I don't say '_for now_'. Instead I say, "Thank God."

"For real," he agrees. He rests his chin on my head and he's quiet. It's a heavy silence, one I've come to recognize.

I snuggle against Edward while he prays. I'm relieved he still feels that connection with the divine. It gives me hope I didn't ruin him, that after I leave he can go back to being a fuck-awesome, unorthodox priest. Giving all of his parishioners what they need. When they need it.

Offering a lighter to a drunk lady in her parents' backyard.

Offering a confession to a crying woman on a Thursday night.

Offering a meal to someone who just ran out on her parents.

Offering a dance to a girl who shows up to a family function on her own.

I fight back irrational jealousy. No matter how many people he ministers to, it won't take away the time we've shared.

"What about you?" I ask.

"What about me?"

I sit up and straddle his lap then pull the blanket over my shoulders and around the two of us, so it's just me and him. Stars glitter outside the window. They're not as bright as the stars in his eyes. I push the damp hair from his forehead then hold his face in my hand. His stubble is rough against the tips of my fingers.

He kisses my open palm then goes for my mouth.

At first it's just the softest brush, little more than his breath. His hand grips the back of my head and presses me into him. Our bodies flush, I'm spread over him with lips parted, taking everything he's willing to give, giving back as much as I can.

I don't want to leave anything off the table. I don't want him to have any regrets.

I lean my forehead against his and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Is there anything?" I ask. "Anything at all you want before you have to go? I'd give you anything you asked."

He swallows. His hands rest on the small of my back as he gathers his thoughts.

"I couldn't hide my feelings. I couldn't hide anything when it came to you." He shakes his head a little, like he's disappointed in himself. "Alice and Jane, Emmett... _Fuck_, even Jacob Black has an idea."

"I'm sorry," I tell him.

"Drink," he says, and shushes me with a kiss.

When he pulls away, I smile. "But we just finished all the champagne."

"Then you owe me one."

"Fine," I huff. "Deal."

"What I was trying to say..." He looks hesitant and uncertain. Then he bites his bottom lip.

"I _love_ it when you do that," I tell him. The words just slip out. So close, yet so far from the ones I've been holding back. I trace his bottom lip with a finger. "Poor bitten lip," I murmur.

I kiss it. To make it better. I press myself against him, rocking back and forth.

He grips my hips and tries to look stern. "You need to stop moving. Otherwise I can't think straight," he says, all tightly wound hard muscle beneath me.

I scoot back on his lap and he looks me over as I wait. It's like he's touching each part of my body with his eyes. I take the moment to look back, to memorize.

"You'd do anything?" he wonders.

"Name it, buddy."

He reaches for my hand, twines his fingers with mine and holds them over his heart. Over his vows.

"I want to keep the rest of this night for us. Just for me and you. Not family or friends. Not even Him." He glances overhead then back to me. "Something we can keep between us forever."

For a moment my mind spins, wondering what he's asking. Something scandalous? Something dirty? Something else he read about on Wikipedia? He's got to know I'd never judge him.

"I would never -" I start to say, but the words die in my throat when I recognize the look on his face.

Who needs to say three words, when you can read them in someone's eyes?

My chest aches. I think it's how it feels when your heart reaches capacity.

"Promise," I say. "Just me and you. Forever."

I'm a girl of my word.

No one's going to know about the rest of our night.

Not even you.

xXxXx

I wake to the smell of coffee again and smile as I roll over in the bed. No blankets, no sheets, not even Edward, just my naked body, warm in a pool of morning sunlight. I crack open my eyes and there's a steaming mug on the nightstand next to a sprig of tiny white flowers we spotted out on the dunes.

"Oh my God, thank you," I say as I rub my eyes and sit up. Suddenly chilly, I reach for the coffee at the same time I reach for a sheet.

Edward doesn't answer.

With one look around it's obvious the cottage is empty. He's not in the kitchen. The bathroom door's wide open. With a quick glance out on the balcony, I see he's not there either.

Everything's been tidied. The pillows are plumped and back on the couch. Blankets are folded neatly over the back of a chair. The dishwasher hums.

My purse hangs on the hook next to the door and my heels are lined up neatly beneath it. Even my dress and panties are folded on top of the dresser.

The only evidence he was here is the ache between my thighs.

With one last ray of hope, I check countertops and tables. There's not even a note. I get it, though. There's nothing he could have written that I don't already know in my heart.

I knew this was temporary. I hoped I didn't mess up his life, and I haven't.

He has Mass this morning. I'm really glad he's where he needs to be.

There are people who need him.

Me? I'll take what he gave me and figure out the rest.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I lunge for it, hoping against hope it's Edward.

It's not.

It's a text from Alice. **CU at Mass? **

**Don't know if I should** \- I text back.

**Please? **Alice begs. **Bringing Jane. Angela's freaked. She might see Ben.**

**I'd kill him if he said anything - **I reply.

**It's why we need you. Please? **

I wrap my body in the sheet and plop down on the couch, hoping it'll smell like him. Or hoping maybe we left champagne bottle rings on the coffee table. There's nothing. Just a neat stack of magazines.

**Don't know** \- I text

**He'd want you to come, dork. It's Sunday. U should B at church with your family.**

For the first time in my life those words ring true. I know where I belong.

xXxXx

Packing is easy, but leaving the cottage is much more difficult. There's no way I can come back and face this place again after church, so I take my bags with me as I head out. The Uber leaves me standing in front of St. Mary's in comfortable traveling clothes, holding my luggage, with a guitar slung over my shoulder. Families stream past me, up the steps. That's where my own family is waiting, off to the side.

Emmett's got his arm around Rose's shoulders and his hand over her breast. She pushes him off her, but then I see she's leaked breast milk all over her dress. She puts his hand back and he laughs.

My mom is talking with Angela. It's the kind of talk I know well. I'm no longer the bad kid. It doesn't feel as satisfying as I thought it would.

Alice holds little Eddie and Jane plays with his toes. Meanwhile, Dad's trying to wrangle my nieces and nephews as they climb all over the railing like a pack of monkeys.

I don't know why I never saw it before, but the whole lot of them are just as messy as I am.

As much as I want to join in, I'm afraid to sit with them for Mass. I should probably leave. I don't want to throw Edward off his game by surprising him.

Alice sees me, though, and rushes down the steps to meet me. Eddie starts fussing and I pluck him out of her arms.

"Shush, little man. You gotta get used to church. You've got eighteen more years of this shit," I tell him.

"Are you okay?" Alice asks.

The look on my face says it all, I guess, because she throws her arms around me. It feels so good, I don't think I'll ever let her go. As the first notes of the processional hymn ring out, I glance up at the church. My dad gives us an impatient wave as he follows the rest of the family inside. The doors close behind him and the rest of the stragglers.

Alice pulls away and smiles as she tries to straighten my hair. I worry I might be the sister vomiting in the bushes this time around.

"It's not about me," I tell her. "I should probably meet you back at Mom and Dad's."

Alice grabs my luggage with one hand and wraps her arm around my waist with her other.

"You're right, Bell. It's not about you. I mean, I think I was the one to teach you that lesson."

"Nah, just the first person I heard."

"It's about us all. Which is why it wouldn't be right if you weren't here too."

As much as the idea of seeing Edward up on the pulpit tears me up inside, as much as I worry that seeing me one more time might throw him off course during Mass, I try something new. I look down at my nephew in my arms.

"Check this out, Eddie. This is what it looks like to have faith."

* * *

**A/N: Who's learned to have faith without believing in God? This atheist. I have faith in our fabulous team: SueBee, ChrisAnn, and Kate. Thanks to the ladies at The Lemonade Stand, to Nic TheFicWhisperer, and Sue at Twilight Fanfiction Finders for rec'ing this each week. And a quick shout-out to the Chicago gals and the firefighters (I think) that discuss this each week. I hear the odds are 11/19 Bella leaving/Bella staying. Feel free to weigh in with a review.**

**Next update later this week. ~ BDC & Jo**


	39. Chapter 36 Synoptic

**Chapter 36. Synoptic **

**Father Cullen**

I'm like a child late for class as I slip into the procession line for Mass.

Hurried steps. Smoothing clothes. Nerves unsettled.

It reminds me of when I first started at St. Vincents. The look Jasper's giving me clinches the deal.

He eyes the top of my head with a raised eyebrow.

_Christ_. Apparently I managed to get a shower and brush my teeth this morning, even dress properly, but forgot to do something with my damn hair.

I try to smooth it down. Jasper smirks then looks away and shakes his head. He takes a deep breath in and lets it out, like he's practicing patience. It seems like he's been doing that since I met him, but I'm not willing to dwell on it. Not now.

Mass is starting.

Bella is on my mind as we walk down the aisle, and I talk silently, with God.

I thank him for today's readings. They were serendipitous.

I didn't have much time to prepare. The past few days have been so filled up with just the two of us, I forgot to write a homily.

After I left Bella's this morning, ideas came to me in seconds. At church, I may as well have been writing about my own life. The words spilled out of me. I couldn't write fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. I settled for half written ideas and references to passages I couldn't forget if I tried.

As I stand on the pulpit, I notice the sanctuary is pretty full, but the only person I'm interested in seeing isn't here. Bella's absence makes my heart sink.

It's not like I have the right to expect her to be here. I know that. I'd hoped though, earlier, as I watched her sleep, watched her breathe. As I placed my hand against her chest so I could feel her heartbeat in sync with mine, as I realized it was time to leave.

I started to write her a note but words on paper felt flat compared to last night.

Still, I thought maybe she'd want to come. Maybe she'd want to say goodbye even though I have no idea how I'd bring myself to say those words.

At the altar, I greet the congregation and I wonder where Bella is. I remember the way it felt to be completely unhinged and completely whole, buried deep inside her.

The way her eyes told me she felt the same.

I recite the Penitential Act with the congregation, and I contemplate whether she might have gotten an earlier flight.

As the entire church sings _Glory to God_, all I can think about is how Bella sang to me.

On her balcony. On stage. _In bed._

The way her voice called out my name when I was inside her.

When it's time to sit, I close my eyes as a deacon recites the first reading of the day.

I pray wherever Bella is, that she's all right. That God keeps her safe. That she continues to have silent talks with Him on her own terms.

_Thank you Lord for the beauty of Your creation. But more specifically, thank you for Bella. _

There's more singing. More praying. More chanting back and forth.

Normally I would embrace the collective energy in the sanctuary. This morning it all feels very mechanical.

As the second reading begins, I try to think of other people to pray for, but it all comes back to Bella. I wonder when I'll see her again, then I fight the urge to pull my cell phone out and text her right here and now. Tell her to come back. Beg her to stay.

But that wouldn't be fair.

She has her entire life to live, her entire career in front of her. Sheepshead Bay is too small for such a big heart with so much to offer the rest of the world.

I try harder to find something else to think about. Pray about.

_Soul of Christ, sanctify me._

_Body of Christ, save me._

_Blood of Christ, inebriate me-_

Jasper nudges my arm and pulls me out of my mind. I open my eyes and, like an answer to my prayer, she's there. Front row. Right side. Five in.

_Bella._

My entire body relaxes for the first time since I arrived at St. Mary's.

"She didn't leave," I mutter.

"Father?" Jasper nods toward the pulpit.

Right. I have a congregation to lead.

_My congregation. _

But is it still? After everything?

On my way to the pulpit, I try to remember to breathe. It's hard to do when the woman who takes my breath away is sitting less than ten feet in front of me.

The woman I discovered something new about myself with.

The woman I broke my vows with.

The woman I'd like to do it again with. Over and over and over.

Her eyes are on me. Lit with fire.

I glance around at my parishioners then look at the Swans specifically. Most of them have an idea how their priest feels about their daughter, sister… friend.

I peek down at my notes and laugh because really, I have no fucking idea what I'm talking about.

I thought I did, but that was before her smile, our kiss. _Sex._

My attention is pulled to Bella. Again.

Then her tattoo.

I remember the first time I saw it, the first time I met her. She was so agitated, here practically against her will. Today I know about the rest of her tattoos. And the way she's looking at me makes me think maybe she couldn't stay away.

A few people cough.

I'm fucking this up. I've forgotten my homily all together. Not that it's surprising. I'm too busy thinking about Bella to concentrate on anything else.

_Is there anything? s_he asked me last night.

And when I asked if we could keep it between us, she didn't hesitate.

_I promise. _

And it all comes flooding back.

_A flash of skin._

Like promises made to men much holier than I. Promises to God.

_My mouth on hers._

I can't even recall what those promises were now.

_Hands, teasing._

I can only remember her. And me.

_Eyes, lips, jaw, neck._

Last night. A whisper. A secret. Just between us. And God.

No. Not God. Not last night. That was just for us.

I close my eyes for a moment longer.

_Breasts_.

_Legs_.

_Heat_.

I blink them open again.

_Fire_.

I see the looks on everyone's faces - waiting, wondering, suspecting.

_Fuck_.

I find a way to get through reading from the Gospel of Luke. I read about building a tower. Laying foundation. Finishing what we start.

It makes me think of Bella and how we've just gotten started.

When I'm done, she's staring up at me without an ounce of shame in her expression. Nothing else matters anymore.

Just her. And me. Here. One last time.

"That first reading today was something wasn't it?" I ask her. She purses her lips together like she's trying to stop herself from answering me.

"Who can know the council of God?" I ask the rest of the congregation. My voice is quiet, strained. I look down at my notes. I clear my throat. I swallow. I shake my head.

"I sure as hell can't." I laugh but stop pretty quickly. I breathe in and let it out slow.

_Here we go. _

"The thoughts of mortal men are fearful, and our counsel is... uncertain, to say the least."

I let the words hang out there.

Two weeks ago, Bella came to my Mass for the first time. My homily was for her.

Last week, it was for Renee.

These words, though… these words are for everyone. Even me. Even God.

I grip the sides of the podium.

"Jeremiah six tells us to stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the _good _way is."

_The good way. _Every time I've asked for God to show me the path over the past couple of weeks, I've felt ignored.

"He tells us to walk in it, and find rest for our souls."

I begged Him.

"But there's always that one guy, right?" I smirk a little. It feels half-hearted. "The one that's just not gonna walk where he's supposed to?"

Then it hits me. I thought He wasn't answering me, but He was. He did. Over and over and over again.

"Any hikers here today?" About four parishioners raise their hands. _Awesome. _"Right. I forgot. This is Sheepshead Bay." People laugh.

"Okay, maybe there's a rolling black out." There's more laughter. People nod their heads.

"Ever lose your flashlight? Or forget where you put it? Maybe the batteries died? What happens when you don't have that light to guide your way?"

Angela's staring up at me like she's hearing me for the first time. Ever.

"It seems pretty hard to see what you're doing, right?" I ask her. "And where you're going. I mean, you've got no light. How are you supposed to know where to go?"

Her eyes start to well up. Rose grabs her hand. I look away.

"But even without light," I say to the rest of the people sitting here, "You've still got common sense and experience, right?"

I meet Bella's eyes. "The only thing left to do is follow your gut."

I don't look away this time. "It might take a little longer, you might end up somewhere you hadn't expected. That doesn't mean you shouldn't be there."

Bella blushes and looks down at her lap.

Fuck.

I look at her and lose track of what I'm saying. So I find a random person to concentrate on and try not to give myself away.

"Stop trying to ignore the path God is laying out for you." I pick another person. "It may not look like the path you envisioned in your head." Someone else. "It might not lead where you thought it would go yesterday, two weeks, a month. A year ago…. " Anyone but Bella. "But God's will, much like our relationship with Him…"

Then I can't keep my eyes away from her anymore. "Is _fluid_."

Nor do I want to.

Bella looks like she's holding her breath. Like maybe she wants to leave.

_God, don't let her leave. _

"We need to trust that He knows what He's doing. That maybe we know what we're doing too."

The thoughts I had while writing today's homily come back to me suddenly - about my life - and I find myself thinking about the Gospel of Luke. About building a tower.

Have I finished mine?

Meeting Jasper created a solid foundation. Teaching God's word gave me strong walls. I used to think they were protecting me. Now I think maybe I've just been hiding behind them.

Am I really following God's path? Or just the one I assumed he wanted me to take?

I never would have met Bella if I hadn't been sent to St. Mary's or become a priest, or met Jasper, or if my parents hadn't decided to drink and drive one night a long time ago.

Christ. All these years I've been living my life under the presumption my tower was done, but the truth is, it's only been half built.

Bella is the other half.

That feeling of utter joy when I'm with her bubbles up inside me suddenly. Overwhelmingly. I look directly at her. She feels it too. I see it, right there, in her eyes. In the way she's trying _really _hard not to smile. The way she looks at me with love.

"You're my-" I start to tell her but _fuck_. I can't just blurt something like this out in the middle of my homily. Right?

So I look out at all the people that have been coming to me for guidance over the past year. I know I shouldn't, that it'd be completely inappropriate, but I take a deep breath, and I go off script.

"Listen, I can read from the gospel all day." I step out from behind the pulpit. "I can tell you what God means when he says _this _or _that_." I wave a hand.

As I look around, I notice a few confused stares.

"I can absolve you of _any _sin," I tell them. "As long as you meet me in that dark, dank box back there." I nod to the back of the sanctuary.

Jesus, even I hear the sarcasm in my voice.

I laugh. Bella hides her face in her hands, but I can tell she's laughing too. Much like the rest of the church.

"The truth of the matter is." I spread my hands. "It doesn't matter what I say or do."

I hear a couple of gasps. Renee looks especially horrified. Charlie sits on the edge of his seat, like he's eager to see where I'm going with this.

Bella's brow knits like she's _worried _where I'm going with this.

"In the end, you're the one that knows where you stand with God. You're the one that gets to decide what your relationship looks like."

And I get to decide what mine looks like.

"You wanna go to church every time those doors are open?" I motion toward the back of the room. "Go for it."

I wave another hand, well aware of the fact I might look like a madman while I'm doing it. "Wanna stay home every once in a while? Sleep off a bender? Have at it."

For a moment, I stop moving altogether. "And if you want to pursue something completely off the rails, out of character, that breaks the rules, but makes your heart abso_lutely_ _full…_" My hand moves to my chest. Over my heart. Over my vows.

I look into Bella's eyes. "Then by all _fucking _means… do it."

Mouths hang open. People look uncomfortable. I can almost hear a few of the deacons' thoughts as they exchange looks.

I really don't give a shit.

Fuck is back on the table and it's staying there.

"Bottom line is," I tell them all, "There is no wrong way to love God. And He will always love you."

The church is so quiet it's unnerving. I'm not sure what to make of it and from the looks on everyone's faces, they're not so sure either. I somehow manage to make my way back to my seat. I don't make eye contact with Jasper, but I feel his eyes on me nonetheless.

Hell, I feel everyone's eyes on me.

Especially Bella's.

Throughout the remainder of Mass, I find myself glancing at her. Checking in. Seeing if I can guess what's going on inside her mind.

I catch her looking up at me a few times. Something feels different. She seems distant, sad.

I wish I could ask her anything right now.

I hope for a long life, _full _of asking her anything.

Then, as she starts to avoid eye contact altogether, I worry I may never get to ask her anything again.

The organ starts to play the hymn for communion and Bella's eyes go wide. She glances directly at me, then goes very still.

I'm not sure what-

The fuck.

When the choir joins in, I understand.

And goosebumps spread.

This version of _Adore te devote_ is sung very differently than how Bella sings it. Today the words are reverential, devotional. But as Bella stares at me, they're perfect.

Members start to stand, and I remember the first time I heard her singing this hymn.

A line forms for communion as I watch Bella, still seated. I think about the night she sang for me. _For us._ How perfectly connected we were.

Are.

She stays in her seat and offers to take Patrick for Rose. Bella holds onto her nephew like her life depends on it. Never looking up, looking only at him, like they're having a private conversation.

Once Rose returns, I expect Bella to hand over the baby so she can get in line.

She doesn't.

She's still not in line when our hymn comes to an end.

The altar boy turns to leave with the paten, but I stop him. Then take one last wafer for one last parishioner.

The entire church seems to go still. There are some curious eyes. Okay, a lot. I don't give a fuck. Jasper glares, his brow dipping, like he's confused and annoyed. But I'm not interested in what he might think. He knows I'm unorthodox, especially when it comes to this particular parishioner.

This particular woman.

I walk over to Bella slowly, intentionally. Patrick is still happy in her arms. When she looks up, she doesn't seem to understand why I'm standing in front of her. Not until I hold the wafer out and say the words.

"The body of Christ."

Then she knows. This isn't about communion or absolving ourselves from anything we've done.

It's about how _I _see her. Her _family _sees her. _God _sees her.

She is worthy.

She is funny, smart, loyal. She is gorgeous, she is fearless and true, open and honest. She is talented, she is imperfectly perfect.

And she is fucking loved. By her friends. By her family. By me. With every fiber of my being.

Her eyes are glued to mine as her breath catches and her chin quivers. She glances to her family, sitting beside her, all of whom finally know her for the amazing person she is. Then she looks back up to me. Her eyes are glassy. She shakes her head just slightly as she bites down on her bottom lip. But I'm not leaving her. Not a chance in Hell.

And then finally, after what feels like an eternity, she parts her lips and I place the wafer on her tongue, hoping my eyes convey what's in my heart.

She closes her eyes as she closes her mouth.

Reverently, she whispers.

"Amen."

* * *

**A/N: So, a few things: _Hozier - Wasteland baby_ (acoustic version) is everything for this chapter.  
**

**Also, fun fact: t****here's been some srs serendipity going on with this fic from the beginning. 1) the Mass reading references per week have been taken directly from the Catholic Mass reading schedule starting the week we began writing. They just keep lining up with what we need, when we need it. And 2) we had no idea Bella's ****hymn was one of the hymns sung at communion until we wrote this chapter.  
**

**_IF_ we believed in God, one _might_ call this - Divine Intervention. Since we don't, we're just calling it REALLY FUCKING COOL.  
**

**Also, yes, we're back at the prologue with this chapter. Full circle. Just saying.**

**Also, blessings beyond what we can convey to SUEBEE, to KATE Hotteaforme, and ChrisAnn!**

**Also, WE LOVE YOU GUYS. Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, laughing, loving. See you SOON! We hope!**


	40. Chapter 37 Love

**Chapter 37. Love **

**Bella**

* * *

"Amen."

A hush falls over the congregation as Edward gazes into my eyes. His feelings for me are unmistakable. It washes away the loneliness I felt after waking up alone. In fact, it just about washes away all the pain I've felt since I was a kid. I hold my breath and hold onto the moment. I'm about to stand up and fall into his arms when Bishop Whitlock clears his throat.

One quick glance in the bishop's direction, and it's clear he knows. He is _not _pleased. I think my cheeks burst into flame before I look back at Eddie - warm and quiet, clutched to my chest, asleep in my arms.

Tears stream down my cheeks. Alice squeezes my knee.

It was one thing when I confessed to Alice, when Rosalie guessed about the two of us, or when Emmett joked after Angie's wedding, but Edward just stood in front of the whole congregation and singled me out.

I probably shouldn't have come. Family or not, it was selfish.

As Edward walks back to the altar, I hold what's left of the wafer against the roof of my mouth, savoring something that touched his fingers.

The last bit of Mass is a blur. I only hear my heart thumping in my ears. I feel the bishop staring. I concentrate on the sleeping baby in my arms.

Talk about an unexpected path. I don't doubt the past two weeks were something like fate. If I was a believer, I'd call it God. This trip saved me in more ways than one. Edward saved me. I just need to make sure it's not at his expense. I hope maybe, somehow, this helped him too.

I dimly see Edward as he walks up the aisle with the recessional, then I jump to my feet.

"I can't do this, Alice," I tell my sister as people start to file out of their pews.

"Do what?" Jane asks, taking Alice's hand in hers. Mr. and Mrs. Aiello's eyes look like they're going to bug out of their heads as they walk by.

"Would you get my luggage for me?" I ask them both. "Meet me with it back at the house?"

"Are you going to _him_?" Alice asks in a whisper. She nods toward the front of the church. Edward usually waits on the front steps to say goodbye as parishioners leave.

"No." I eye the side door. I don't want to think about what he might do, or how I'd give us away if he reached out to shake my hand. If he looked into my eyes. If he murmured my name.

"Thanks for holding Eddie," Rose says, plucking him out of my hands.

"He was a fucking godsend. I don't know what I would have done without him."

Without another human in my arms, I feel exposed and very much alone.

Rose smiles. "He loves you. You know, Em and I actually have something we wanted to ask."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Bishop Whitlock lingering near the vestibule.

"Can we talk later?" If I don't get out of here, my family is either about to watch me get chewed out by a bishop or kissed by a priest. Maybe both. I'm half afraid the whole place is going to go up in a blaze of hellfire.

With quick hugs all around, I duck out and double-time it to my parents'. The sleepy streets of Sheepshead Bay are a blur as I half walk, half run to the house. Dad always leaves the side door to the garage unlocked, and he always leaves his cigarettes in the same spot.

Thank God.

I glance up at the ceiling.

_Thanks, God._

My fingers shake as I try to light a smoke. I feel a little better with the first drag. In just another few hours, I'll be far enough away from Edward that I won't block the path God's trying to show him.

I try to hold onto my conviction that this was meant to be. With another drag, I attempt to chase away doubts that I just used sex to get what I wanted. I remind myself this was so much more than seducing a priest.

Because it was everything to me.

I remember how certain Edward was when he came to me two nights ago. How right the world felt when I was in his arms.

I think about how he made time for just the two of us and how we'll have it forever.

How I told myself it was enough… and how my stupid heart wants so much more with a man who was never in a position to give it to me.

"Isabella!?"

I gasp and drop the cigarette.

I spin around as the garage door swings inward.

"Thank fuck," Edward says with a sigh. "I didn't know where you went."

His hair is a mess and I love it. He's ditched the collar and the clerical shirt and is wearing a t-shirt that says '_I Love You 3000_'. I love it, even if it is Iron Man. Fuck, I love it _more_ because it's Iron Man.

Stupid, sexy, steadfast priest.

The fingers of his right hand stretch a little, then clench, like he's reaching for me, or reaching for a cigarette. Probably both. And I love it.

I love him.

In my head, I throw myself into his arms. In real life, I force myself to stay put.

"How did you get here?" I ask instead.

Edward chuckles. It's breathless and deep. It makes my bones vibrate. It makes my skin feel like it's electrically charged. "Same way you did. I think you probably ran. I walked. It was a fast walk."

He takes a step toward me and I back up. With another step, my back's against a ladder hanging on the wall.

"You didn't stand for Communion," he says.

"I told you before, Edward. I don't believe in it."

"You do," he insists. "You talk silently to God. You _pray_ all the time."

I shake my head. "Things are _fluid_, you know? I don't know what I believe in. "

His hands rest on my hips as he looks into my eyes. "Please don't joke. Don't lie. Not now. Not to me."

"Fine. You want the truth?" I ask. I take a shaky breath. "I believe in _you_."

I don't think I've ever believed in anyone more.

Edward pushes some hair behind my ear. A ghost of a smile passes over his lips. "It's so much more than that, and you know it."

"It is. You also made me believe in my family more than I ever have before. Thanks."

"You believe in yourself."

I nod. It's true. I'm the person I want to be, living the life I've always wanted to live.

He runs his fingers through my hair and cradles the back of my head in his hand. "And this? _Us_?"

I blink back tears. "These last couple of weeks were the two most important weeks of my life."

"Me too," he says. His brow dips as he studies my face. "But…?"

"I'll never forget it, okay? I promise." I hook my fingers through the belt loops at his hips. I can't keep my body away from his, no matter how hard I try. My hands settle. My fingertips dig.

"You don't have to forget," he murmurs. His hand fists my hair and he cinches an arm around my waist, pulling our bodies flush as his lips meet mine. My resolve crumbles as my body melts into his.

He clutches me like he's holding on for dear life. Knowing this is the last time, I give up and get careless. I do the same. His hands are everywhere, and I can feel how much he wants me. Sparks turn to flame and Edward seems to agree. His hands slide underneath my shirt, and I almost think he's going to pull it off.

_Dear God_, I'd let him. I want him to.

It feels like we're trying to consume one another or crawl inside one another. Edward lifts me into his arms and I wrap my legs around him. I moan into his mouth and grab his shirt, hiking it higher so I can touch, so I can hold. He clutches my ass with one hand and unclasps my bra with the other as I grind against him. When he pushes me against the wall for leverage, my back clatters against the ladder.

I shriek and scramble from his arms as Edward lunges, catching the ladder before it can fall on my head.

"Saving me one last time," I joke. I take a few steps to put some space between the two of us. I refasten my bra. I take a deep breath.

Kissing was a bad idea, but having sex in my parents' garage would have been disastrous. Someone would have found us. Either I would stay in Brooklyn, or Edward wouldn't. Neither of those decisions would be right.

He hangs the ladder back on the wall then adjusts himself. When he looks at me he seems exasperated. "You still don't get it, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've helped save everyone around you. Alice, Jane, Rose, Angela… _me_."

"Now who's lying?" I huff.

"Bella, without you I-"

"I should never have come to church today, okay?" I interrupt before he can say something that can't be taken back.

"You're always welcome at St. Mary's."

"It could have cost you everything. I confused it all for faith."

Edward's eyes go wide and he leans against the wall, almost like he needs the support. His smile lights up his face. "You had faith? About attending Mass?"

"Yeah, but I was wrong, so-"

"There's no wrong way to do it," Edward explains. "It's like-"

"You can make it right with the bishop. Tell him it was me. He won't be surprised. He'll believe it was _my _mistake."

Edward purses his lips, takes a deep breath, and transforms into the priest I've seen on the pulpit. He's as intimidating as he is loving, and it's almost too much to handle.

"You have it backwards," he tells me quietly but insistently. "I had a responsibility to you as your priest. If there were mistakes made, they would be mine. But _this_…" he says, pointing between the two of us, "This was not a mistake."

Edward waits for me to reply, but I want him so much, I don't trust myself to speak.

"You can't believe that," he begs. "I _won't_ believe it!"

"You can confess, okay?" I take his hands in mine. I clutch. He has to listen. "Ask Jasper's forgiveness. You can go back to how it was before I came, back to whatever path Jasper told me you were on. God's path, right? Become a bishop. A cardinal. Do amazing things."

He twines his fingers with mine. "I'm already on the path. Promotions, power… none of that's important to me."

"It _should_ be. It's important to _me_." My voice is rising. I feel frantic.

"_You're _important to me, Bella. I care about you. I-"

"No!" I shout. I pull my hands away.

"I do," he says, leaving no doubt. Not that I had one, not after last night. Now there's no pretending, though. Edward runs a shaky hand through his hair.

"Edward, you need to figure out what else you care about. Besides me."

We watch one another. Our chests rise and fall together. The air between us feels alive. Everything about him - the way he looks at me, the way his fingers reach for me, the way it feels like he's about to lunge for me - tells me this is all about me.

When it can't be.

_What the fucking fuck, God?_

"You're praying again. See?" He waves his hand in my direction like I've hung prayer flags or something.

I practically groan. "Don't start with that again, _Edward_."

"You're the one who started praying, _Bella,_" he says. And goddamn him, he's giving me _the_ look. He's doing it on purpose.

I would so like to kiss that look off his face. I know I could. My whole body wants it. Against the wall, away from the ladder this time. Maybe with Edward against the wall, me on my knees. For a second, I see a long life together and how I could win every single argument about praying. Or not praying. Because I am _not _praying, for the love of God.

I take a deep breath and try to focus. "Please, this is serious."

"I know it is." He takes my shoulders in his hands and I breathe an involuntary sigh of relief. Warmth spreads from the place where we touch, seeping through my limbs like molten lava.

"Would you…" My voice cracks. It sounds shaky. I take a breath. "Would you want me to give up everything I ever worked for, for you?"

He looks incredulous. "Of course not."

He slides his hands from my shoulders and down my arms. He grasps my hands and squeezes, like he's trying to drive the point home. So am I, so I squeeze his hands right back.

"Neither would I, okay? I couldn't live with myself if you did that," I try to explain.

"It's not cut and dry. We could still be together. There are exceptions."

He says it like he really believes it. He makes me almost believe it too. For a split second, I let myself live out the fantasy. I try to see what he sees, to figure out what that path would look like. Even in my dreams, it doesn't work.

"Really?" I ask. "Exceptions for priests who fall in… " The rest of the sentence lodges in my throat. I grit my teeth and force myself to say something else. "For priests who _fuck_ their parishioners?"

Edward looks like I've slapped him. The connection between us breaks just a little. He steps away. My heart lurches.

"That's not what this was," he hisses.

My eyes burn. My legs feel weak. It's the closest I've ever come to lying to him. "This was something we knew had to end."

"There are advocates for change in the church. Chastity isn't mentioned as a requirement in the bible. We could have a revolution that brings people back to Catholicism."

"You and I don't have another hundred years to wait."

"It could be now. Next week." He pats his chest. "I can _help _change things."

"Maybe you should, but this, _us_…" I motion between the two of us. "There's more than a vow of chastity standing in our way. Do you think the church is going to accept a priest with _me_? That I'm going to suddenly accept them back?"

"I don't give a fuck about who or what the church accepts. _I _accept you. I _love_ you."

My heart stops beating. My mouth goes dry. Those three words are like a knife through my chest. Every single cell in my body screams it back to him.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love you more than I knew it was possible to love another person. I love you so much I know I need to get out of your way. I know you've got bigger things to do than just me.

I close my mouth. I clench my jaw. I'm afraid to breathe, let alone speak.

If I say it back, he'll leave his calling, just like Bishop Whitlock told me.

The garage door swings open. My dad stops in his tracks.

"Bella, Father. Shit. I'm…" he sputters, looking back and forth between us, then at the half-smoked cigarette on the floor. "You two musta' snuck in here."

Edward and I stare one another down. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my dad look longingly at his pack of smokes.

"I, uh, should probably get… you know... Rose and Em were looking for ya', Bella. You too, Father."

"I can't now," I say, still watching Edward. "I've gotta get to the airport."

"Your flight doesn't leave for another-"

"I need to leave now!" I say, cutting him off. "I _really_ need to go."

"You wanna come in, Father? There's an unopened bottle of Maker's Mark in there with your name on it."

Edward shakes his head but refuses to take his eyes off me. "I should probably get back. There's, um... the men's prayer group. And a deacon's meeting, I think."

xXxXx

Back in the house, it sounds like a herd of wild buffalo is rampaging upstairs.

"_Avengers assemble_!" One of my nephews screams, practically rattling the windows.

"Where's my luggage?" I ask my dad. I stare at my phone like I've forgotten how to order a ride.

"In the living room, baby girl. But do you want to talk?"

"About what?" I huff. I try not to cry.

I feel suddenly, incredibly alone.

"You're serious?" He pulls the phone from my hands and tosses it on the table. Then he holds me at arms' length, looking me over like he's not quite sure what to say.

I shake him off and wipe at the corners of my eyes. "There's nothing to talk about, okay?"

"I don't think that's true. The other night at Billy's, he-"

"- was blitzed out of his mind," I remind my dad. "Have you been to confession like I asked? The man could hardly walk."

My father shakes his head. "You show up and suddenly the whole family's in… what did he call it today? The dark, dank box." He chuckles. "I guess I should probably go too."

I laugh through tears. Dad grabs himself a beer from the refrigerator. I shake my head when he offers me one.

"Keep an eye on him for me, Dad? Please?"

He takes a very long swig of his Bud.

"You want me to keep an eye on my _priest_?"

"He's more than that."

Dad pulls me into his arms. "I know, baby girl. The man's family."

In the living room, the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Jane and Alice are squished together on one side of the couch, while Mom's on the other side. She's shooting daggers at Angela, who's silently lobbing them right back. Rose is perched on Emmett's lap, trying to shush little Eddie back to sleep.

All eyes snap in my direction when I walk into the room.

"Where's Father?" Angela wonders out loud.

"Um, church, I think." I sniff.

Emmett looks confused. "Uh, no? He was just-" Rose elbows her husband in the ribs and he shuts the hell up. "_Ow!_ Geez."

"You heard Bella. Father had to get to church," she hisses.

Alice smiles brightly. "We took your stuff for you. It's all here." My guitar leans against my luggage next to the front door. It's all ready to go. I'm ready to go.

I don't bother to wipe the tears from my face. There are too many.

"Thanks, Alice. You're the best."

My littlest sister bolts from the couch and throws her arms around my neck. "No, you're seriously the best. I'm gonna miss you so much."

She holds on so tight I think she might strangle me.

"You and Jane should come visit, okay? Whatever city you want. Just let me know."

"You mind if a pregnant lady tags along?" Angela asks.

Alice and I make room in the hug for one more.

"_I want to be Iron Man_!" one of the kids upstairs yells.

"_No, I want to be Iron Man! Edward says Iron Man is the best. And I am the best!_"

"_I'm going to be Iron Man!_"

"_But you're a girl!"_

"_So what?"_

"_Ow!"_

Something crashes overhead. One of the kids starts crying.

"For the love of God," Rose huffs and marches toward the stairs. She plops Eddie into my arms on the way and squeezes my shoulder. "If Angie's going, you better believe I'm coming too."

"Sure thing," I tell her.

"Take care of yourself." She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do," she says as she wipes away her lipstick and a few of the tears with her thumb.

"_I Iron Manned you! Ha, ha, HA!"_

"_That is not how it works, Liam!"_

"_Yes it is!"_

"_Ow! Liam! Mommy! Mom! MOM!_"

"Liam McCarty!" she shouts as she heads upstairs. "You know damn well Iron Man would never hurt a girl!"

Emmett chuckles. "Kid's in for it if Rosie's swearing. Take care of yourself, Bella." He wraps an arm around my shoulders and hugs me tighter than Dad. "Give 'em hell out there."

"I think I've given enough hell to last me a while."

"Maybe after the girls' trip, me and Ed-"

The look I give Emmett is more effective than a jab to the ribs.

He holds his hands up, purses his lips and exhales slow. "Never mind."

"And you," I say to Eddie. "You take care of your parents, 'cause I know you're way smarter than they are. Keep Liam out of the tuna, and keep your sisters from tearing up Grandma's house. Okay? And no matter what your brothers and sisters say, you little man, will always be Iron Man to me." I brush my nose against Eddie's and he yawns. He's already too cool for his idiot aunt.

When I glance at the rest of the family, they're all staring at me.

"What?" I ask, as I hand Eddie back to Emmett. "Can't an aunt say bye to her nephew?"

"Yes, she certainly can." Mom takes me into her arms. "Remember to call, okay? You can't leave us in the dark like you did last time."

"Yes, Mom."

"And don't drink too much. And no drugs. Well, you're a rock star now, so I understand if you smoke a little marijuana every now and then, but no hard stuff."

"Oh my God. Yes, Mom."

She steps back and looks me over. Then she leans in and whispers in my ear. "And for the love of God, Bella, remember to wear a bra when you're on stage."

When I laugh, there are tears in my eyes.

"It's not a joke, Isabella. Men pay attention to this kind of thing."

"Not as much as mothers do," I tell her, and pull her into one last hug.

"And Bella?"

"Jesus, Mom, what is it?"

She steps back and nods over my shoulder toward the front window. "I think there's someone waiting for you."

My heart hammers in my chest. He didn't leave.

xXxXx

I take a seat on the curb next to Edward. He's got a cigarette clutched between his lips like his life depends on it.

He doesn't look at me, but reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pack of smokes.

"Whatever I need," I say as I take one.

"Whenever you need it," he replies as he holds out his lighter.

I playfully punch his arm. "Thanks."

Edward hangs his head, then looks off across the street as he takes a drag. I fidget with the latch on my luggage.

"So, Minneapolis?" he asks.

"Minneapolis," I agree. At the moment it doesn't feel so appealing. Sitting next to Edward, I'm close to cancelling. I could easily lie to Alec and tell him I'm still fucked up. He'd believe me. I think.

"Let me know how it goes?" Edward asks.

When I glance at him, he's finally peering my way. I recognize the look in his eyes. It's just how I felt this morning when Alice texted and I hoped it was Edward.

He's still hoping.

My stupid heart's hoping too.

I sigh. "I don't think so."

"You're gonna keep me guessing?" He laughs a little. It sounds forced. Sad. "You've become the world's best tease."

"We really shouldn't. We just can't, okay? No talking, no texting. None of that kind of thing."

I couldn't handle it. I can hardly handle this. It would hurt us both too much. Or it would end in Facetime. In some surprise sex-filled visit on the road. I wouldn't have the strength to say no. I'd get in his way.

"But -"

"But you've got to finish building your tower," I tell him. I use the words he read this morning from the Bible.

Edward looks stunned. He smiles and he blinks like he's blinking away tears. "You listened."

"To everything you've ever said. You smart, sexy, surprisingly relevant priest."

"Up until a few weeks ago, I thought I was done building." He takes the last drag of his cigarette, then flicks it into the street. "Then you came along."

"And I almost knocked it the fuck over." I shake my head.

"Not even close. You're the rest of it." He leans into me, warm and solid. I feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a breath. "You're the heart of the whole damn thing."

Tears slide down my face. "I can't be that for you. I'd only let you down."

"You couldn't possibly. Ever."

"I'm not a tower, Edward. I'm a person. The rest of what you need to build is in here somewhere," I tell him, my hand over his heart, over his vows. "It's gonna be fucking fabulous. Like the best fucking tower in the history of towers. All the other towers are going to be so fucking jealous."

He laughs as he takes my hand in his. "I don't think that's how towers _fucking _work."

"_Fuck_… I don't regret that we put it back on the table."

"I don't have a single _fucking_ regret," he agrees. He pushes some hair behind my ear and sighs. "I love you."

I nod. "I know."

Before I can start sobbing, Edward's kissing me. Soft and slow. Carefully. He worships with his lips. He cradles my face in his hands. He doesn't hold back his love. It pours from him. And maybe it's wrong, but I take it for the last couple minutes we have left.

The Uber pulls up and Edward helps me with my luggage.

"Promise you won't get in touch, okay?" I ask.

Edward looks off into the distance before gazing into my eyes in defeat. "If that's what you need."

I remind myself how faith can't be wrong.

Then I leave Edward with one last kiss on the cheek.

"I do."

* * *

**A/N: Are you still with us? Listen, it'll be like that footprints poem... Let us carry you through these next few chapters. We got you, okay? Have faith.**

**Thanks to SueBee, ChrisAnn, and Kate for holding our hands and holding our hair as we retched. Thanks a million to Random Rita over at Rob Attack for rec'ing BoC last week.**

**Looking for something a little less... religious, maybe? Put hotteaforme on alert. She's got a new fic, Taste of Ink coming out later this week.**

**The next chapter of BoC will be out Friday-ish. Until then, we'll be hiding in our dark, dank box. **


	41. Chapter 38 Reformation

**Chapter 38. Reformation **

**Father Cullen **

Back at St. Mary's, I sit at my desk. My hands are fisted together. My chin is braced against them. My breath feels shallow, shaky.

A clock ticks.

A window creaks.

My heart beats.

I stare at the wall and try to deal with all the ramifications of telling Bella I love her, then not hearing her say those words back: The ache in my chest, the white hot burn in the pit of my stomach, as I sit here, alone.

I thought telling her I love her meant leaving this part of my life behind. But here I am, back in my office, wearing a collar that represents ideals that I don't even know if I believe in anymore.

Of course, I had no right to expect anything from her. I didn't. I just wanted her to know. She _deserved _to know.

She deserves everything.

But it still fucking hurts.

I bow my head. I close my eyes and wonder what I could have said or done differently to change her mind about this… _us_.

"_Fuck_."

_Promise you won't get in touch, okay? _

The day is a blur. I go to meetings. People stop by. They say things, I'm sure, but I couldn't tell you what. Calls go unanswered, emails go untouched. Eventually, it's dark out, but I can't bring myself to get up and leave. I want to sit here and remember. Or reset the past two weeks. Something. Anything but face the fact that Bella's gone.

The door opens and Jasper steps in. He doesn't say a word, but he looks like he wants to.

He begins to pace. His head is bent. His hands are clasped behind his back. And after what seems like an eternity of silence, I give in.

"I don't want to hear how I have to choose between God and Bella."

He shakes his head and purses his lips. He seems worried. "No, I don't suppose you do, do you?"

"And I'm not gonna apologize for today," I tell him in no uncertain terms.

He stops and gives me a pointed look. "I'd never expect you to," he says. "That doesn't mean the deacons won't."

I'll deal with the deacons later.

"Then what are you-"

"You don't look so good today." He watches me closely. I know how I feel. I can't imagine how I look. I'm not sure I can bring myself to tell him Bella's gone.

He nods, thoughtfully.

"I didn't think she'd really go." It's like he's read my mind. As usual. I don't know what to say because sure, secretly I might have hoped, but it never crossed my mind she would stay.

"She told me she was leaving, but I thought maybe she was just saying it to appease me. That today would come and she'd find a reason to stay." He nods toward me. "For you."

I laugh. It's not funny though. "Why would she do that?"

Jasper takes a breath and regards me for what feels like forever. "Because she loves you, Edward."

"She-" doesn't. She didn't say it. She left and doesn't want to hear from me again.

_Promise you won't get in touch, okay? _

"If I _thought _staying would mean she loves you, imagine my conviction now that she actually left."

He's saying words. My brain hasn't caught up yet.

"Edward." He waits for me to look him in the eyes. It feels like he's not quite sure if he should say this next part.

"I only want you to be happy. No matter what that looks like."

A weight lifts that I didn't even know was there before. I feel the overwhelming need to sob. Or shout. Or curse. _Something. _So I take a deep breath like it's going to give me strength.

"There's something I need to-"

"I'm heading home today." He interrupts my confession. _No, _story. Like he doesn't want to hear it. Or maybe like he doesn't need to.

Like maybe he's letting go of something.

"Okay," I tell him instead. And then he gives me that look, the one that says he's worried, but that he's trying not to be.

"You gonna be alright?" he asks.

"I hope so." It's the best I can do, even if I'm not a hundred percent sure myself.

After a minute, he narrows his eyes as he thinks on it. "I think you're both gonna be okay."

_God, I pray he's right._

"Counseling is always an option," he adds. "It could be me, or I can make a phone call on your behalf."

"I'll call you." I'm not sure I will.

Later, when I know everyone in the building is gone for the day, I pull myself up out of the pile of self-pity I've created and grab my jacket off its hook. I turn the lights out and head down the hallway, to the sanctuary.

I pass the pew where Bella sat this morning. I can almost see her smile. Then I pass the confessional where I first heard her voice, sarcastic as it was. I get lost in thought about how she changed my life that day, then try to swallow down the lump in the back of my throat as I remind myself she's gone.

Outside, I shove my hands into my pockets and immediately feel a tiny piece of paper that wasn't there heart beats fast as I unroll it. I remember to breathe as I read the note Bella must have slipped in sometime in the past day or so.

It's the end of First Corinthians, thirteen.

_These three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love._

I couldn't agree more. The hole in my chest is proof enough.

xXxXx

Monday arrives and I don't have to guess if Bella will be stopping by for confession. She's long gone - in Minneapolis, or onto another city. She's probably getting ready for the next venue she'll be playing. With… _Mike._

There won't be any flirtation in the dark, dank box this afternoon. No blasphemous innuendo. No tiny notes pushed through the grating. But if I sit here quietly, and close my eyes, I can almost hear her laughter from the other side of the screen. Or giving me shit about being too godly. Or singing my hymn.

I pull myself into the present, despite how badly I'd like to get lost in my daydreams, and remind myself not to be selfish. My parishioners need me.

With each admission of sin, I offer encouragement, I open God's word, I search for the right prayers. As I flip through the pages, though, I always stop at the same place - where three tiny notes from Bella reside.

I stare at the most recent one, like seeing her handwriting somehow makes me closer to her, wherever she is.

_The greatest of these is love, _I read for the hundredth time just today.

_God, I love her. Keep her safe._

Throughout the afternoon, as I offer absolution over and over and over again, I notice I sound less like myself, more like the priest at St. Michaels.

I say the proper blessings, I give the proper penance. I tell them God forgives them.

But it all feels very bland.

I close my eyes after the last person leaves.

"I want to be your vessel, Lord."

The door of the confessional opens again, unexpectedly, and I finish the prayer silently. _Let me be Your vessel._

"Bless me Father, it's been…" The man laughs from the other side of the screen. "Hell, I think I lost count how long it's been since I've confessed."

I grin because he's got the same attitude his daughter had the first time she visited me here against her will. "Hi Charlie."

"I thought this was supposed to be anonymous, Father."

"You're absolutely right. Sorry." I try to use a more professional tone. "Christ be with you."

He laughs again. "I promised _someone _I'd come by and ask forgiveness for a few things. I guess I should start with how I got my priest sloshed."

I can't stop myself from laughing. "I'm pretty sure he had a hand in getting himself sloshed, too."

He groans. "Yeah, well…" Charlie lets out a long, frustrated sounding sigh.

"In all seriousness, I wasn't there for my daughter like I should have been over the past few years." He pauses before adding, "I'm trying to do better on that front."

I debate what to tell him. That God forgives him? That He'll give Charlie the strength he needs to be a strong example for his family?

I go with what's in my heart, instead.

"She knows, Charlie. I promise, she knows."

I'm ridiculous, unable to even say her name. Not here. Not with her dad. He'd hear it in my voice if I said it.

"Thanks," he says. "So…"

Right. I almost forgot. I say the prayer of absolution, then give Charlie his penance for his sins. "Three Our Fathers. And… maybe call your daughter. For no good reason."

He snickers. "Will do."

I take a deep breath, feeling slightly better than I did before he stopped by. When he doesn't get up to leave, I wonder if there's more.

"Is there something else you needed, Charlie?"

"That was, um... quite the sermon yesterday, Father."

"What can I say?" It sure as Hell was, Charlie. It was inspired by God, but also your daughter. It was everything I've learned in my years as a priest and everything she taught me over the past two weeks. It was blasphemous and perfect, filled with passion and bursting with love. Just like Bella.

But I can't say any of that.

"You're a good priest, Edward," he tells me after a moment.

I hear what he's saying. It's eerily similar to what Bella told me on several occasions. But I'm more confused by the fact that he just called me Edward. Not _Father_.

"You're also a good man," he adds. Christ. My chest tightens and my cheeks warm. I recognize this feeling. It's the same as any time Jasper's told me he's proud of me, any time he's smiled when I've done exactly the right thing or said the right words.

It doesn't feel like I've done anything like that lately.

_Shit._

I know Charlie's here to confess, but I feel like I have some confessing of my own to do, too. I just hope he doesn't want to murder his priest when I finally come clean.

"Charlie, I'm -"

"In love with my daughter, yeah, I know. You told me."

I'm taken aback. "What?"

"At the bar the other night," he reminds me.

I shut my eyes. _Fuck_.

Fucking alcohol.

"Yeah," he says like he heard my thoughts. Or maybe I said it out loud. Who knows? "It's a little weird, but I never really thought you were a normal priest. Anyway, these past couple of weeks, my kid's been happier than I've seen her in years."

"Charlie, I-" I look down at Bella's note in my hands. I look at Charlie's reflection.

"She made me happy too." I take a deep breath. "I love her. I love her more than I knew was possible."

"I know it's hard to let her go," he tells me.

Harder than anything I've ever had to do before. "Yeah."

I can barely choke the word out, and the confessional falls into a heavy silence. I'm not sure what else there is to say.

"You know, you remind me of this one priest Renee's Aunt Sylvia used to hang out with," Charlie says with a chuckle, like he's trying to make me feel better about it all.

It's working.

"Was she the one who was double Catholic?" I ask him, feeling a little less melancholy, a little more curious.

"I hear that's not really a thing," he says.

We both laugh. It echoes through the church.

It's the best sound I've heard all day.

xXxXx

Tuesday comes and goes. Appointments, drop-ins, and prayer meetings all keep me busy. Jasper calls a few times. I don't answer, but he leaves messages that encourage me to seek God's counsel. He reminds me he believes in me. He tells me how much he cares about me, that he's there for me if I need him.

There's a few more messages by the end of the day - from Alice, from Rose and Emmett. There's even one from Charlie.

I wish just one of them was from Bella, checking in to let me know she's all right. What city she's in, maybe. What songs she's writing.

That she misses me the way I very desperately miss her.

By Wednesday, I've read over the scriptures for this coming week's Mass so many times I've memorized them. I've attempted to write the homily three, maybe four times before finally giving up and heading to confession.

I shouldn't be surprised another Swan stops by.

"You're avoiding everyone," Alice says instead of asking forgiveness for sins. I'm beginning to think socializing during confession runs in the family.

I don't bother going through the motions with her. "I'm avoiding myself, Alice."

"Is that smart?" she asks.

"I don't know." I close my eyes and exhale. "I don't know anything, really." It's the easy answer, the one that lets me avoid reality. I can almost hear Alice narrow her eyes at me from the other side of the wall.

"I don't think that's true. I think you know a _lot_."

She's calling me out. And she's right. I know I love her sister. I know loving her wasn't enough. I know I have something I need to do and no idea how to start doing it.

"She wants me to figure out what's important to me. Besides her."

"And you don't already know that?"

"It's not that simple, Alice."

"Isn't it?"

I stare at the grate between us, thinking about Alice's complicated relationship with the church and how very sure she is about what's important to her, despite the rules. I think about Rose's situation then my own. I remember when I first became a priest, how I was so confident and hell bent on doing it my way. I guess hiding behind the walls of seminary, and then St. Mary's, I never had a reason to question much because I never really let myself experience anything outside the four walls of the church.

The past two weeks, I feel like I've learned more about myself than ever before.

When I stop to think about what the church has always expected of me versus what's really in my heart, Alice is right.

I already know what's important.

xXxXx

Wednesday night and well into Thursday, I'm swept up in a whirlwind of reading and research, phone calls and messages, follow up emails and favors requested.

I've asked Leah not to allow visitors, to re-arrange meetings, and only let calls through from a contact I've been trying to get ahold of in Europe.

I don't realize how many people I've been putting off until late in the day when she hands me the thick stack of pink message slips she's collected. That and the fact that Rose bursts into my office with Patrick in her arms. She strides toward me like she's on a mission, and she does not look happy. I push my chair back from the desk, surprised and scared at the same time.

Emmett follows behind her with a smile and a wave, like he's silently apologizing. With one look at me though, Rose narrows her eyes. Her expression softens a little.

She shakes her head in pity and sighs. "I probably don't have to ask why you're not returning my calls."

"I'm sorry, I've been..." I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, I see that." She glances around the office. Scattered papers line the floor. Piles of books sit at the edge of my desk.

Emmett takes the other seat. "Studying for an exam, Ed?" He's joking, but he's not too far off.

"Something like that." I check my phone to see if I've missed any calls. Maybe from Rome. Or, by some small miracle, from Bella.

"I get it," Rose says. The way she looks at me, I know she does, without a shadow of a doubt. "But if you don't return our calls, you're gonna miss your own godson's baptism."

"No, I'm just-" I stop, unsure I heard her right. "My what?"

"I mean," Emmett puts an arm around his wife. "What Rosie's trying to say… ask, is-"

"We'd really love it if you'd be Eddie's godfather... _Father_."

And just like that, my heart lightens. Everything I've been consumed with for the past day and a half is forgotten. _Godson._

"I knew it was right when I saw you and B-" Rose catches the look in my eye and clears her throat. "When _you _held him at Mom and Dad's last week. He'll be in good hands. God forbid, if anything happens to us, we'd want him to know the Bible _your _way."

"And we _definitely _want him to use birth control. I mean, when the time comes," Emmett adds.

Rose rolls her eyes. "You _would _make this about sex."

"Sex is important," Emmett argues. I try to stifle a laugh and fail.

Rose shakes her head. "And now you see why we have five kids. Anyway, it's not just birth control, Father. There are other reasons. Family reasons."

"Are you kidding? I'd be honored."

I break out the secret bottle of wine I keep stashed and offer a toast. It reminds me, again, of Bella and the night we shared a drink here and priested out together. Since that night, I've grown closer to her family than I would have ever expected. Being a part of that family, like this, is the privilege I didn't know I was waiting for.

"You want to hold him?" Rose asks.

I take a sleeping Patrick in my arms. "You sure about this?" I ask the baby. Maybe if I'm his godfather, I can save him from a lifetime of being called Eddie. It's worth a try, at least.

Patrick wrinkles his nose, and it's very possible he gives me the middle finger in his sleep.

Emmett chuckles. "Are _you_ sure, Ed? This one's gonna be trouble. There's one in every family, am I right?"

There definitely is. I know which daughter would have been the "one" in the Swan family. When I glance up from Patrick, my eyes meet Rose's. She knows what I'm thinking, who I'm thinking about. She nods her head a little, letting me know she gets it, letting me know we don't have to say a damn thing about it.

"Oh, hey, Mom wanted us to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. Everyone's coming."

"Everyone?" I'm a little too eager. Emmett notices.

"I mean, shit," he corrects himself. "Sorry, _almost_ everyone."

My smile fades. Of course she didn't come back. It was a stupid thought.

I set my wine down and try not to show my utter disappointment. Then I try to smile politely. A Swan family dinner wouldn't be the same without Bella there.

"Um. Actually, I don't think I can, I've got this… dinner with the deacons and…"

"It's cool. Next time." Emmett claps me on the shoulder.

"Maybe." I'm non-committal. He lets it slide.

"We'll be in touch about the details." Rose changes the subject as she carefully takes Patrick from me. Emmett sets down his glass. I finish mine off "Since I don't think you can officiate the service and also be the godfather."

"Absolutely, you have my number."

"Just make sure you answer this time," Rose warns. "You're going to need someone a lot bigger than Leah if you want to keep me out of here."

I hold my hands up. "Promise."

At the door, she stops and turns. "Edward?"

Her voice sounds so much like her sister's, it catches me off guard.

"What you did last week. At Mass. It was… pretty awesome. And… ballsy. For a priest."

Emmett grins and nods toward his wife. "What she said."

I'm not sure how to respond. I nod and smile. I'm pretty sure Rose sees the heartache behind the empty gesture. She quickly hands Patrick over to Emmett and rushes over to me. Then she wraps her arms around me in a warm hug.

"She felt the same. I promise."

xXxXx

On my way home from St. Mary's, I take a detour and pass by Billy Black's bar. The night I ran into Bella there, she made the most inappropriate comment about spreading seed. It gave me the most inappropriate fantasies about spreading seed... with her.

Randazzo's is lit up in the distance. The outside dining area is full of couples on late night dates. The best Stark verses Cap debate I've had in years happened there. The kiss we shared on our way back to Alice's apartment that night wasn't like the one in confession. I wasn't afraid. I didn't feel torn between what I wanted and what the church expected. I wasn't worried about what the church might think. I only acted on what I thought, what I felt in that moment.

I consider taking the subway somewhere, anywhere other than home, but all I think about is the ride we took into Manhattan. How neither of us knew how to act at first. How by the end of the night I felt more comfortable with her than anyone I've ever met.

How sorry I was it had to end.

_Drink. _

I laugh at how that damn game changed everything.

"Home it is." I give in and walk to the rectory.

It's dark inside. Quiet. Nothing like last week.

"_You're not saying Mass?" _

Up these stairs. In my room.

Against that wall.

"_You're wearing too many clothes." _she said. Before I knew it, we were skin to skin, connected on another level altogether.

"_The bed's back there." _

"_But I want you here."_

I close my eyes. I see us there - frantic, desperate. I feel her lips. I smell her shampoo.

I think about the lacy underwear and the black heels. Her breasts in my hands. Her hands in my hair. Those sounds she makes. The way I fit inside her. Just right.

Then I remember the look in her eyes when she told me goodbye, and I can't stand the thought of never seeing her again.

I open my eyes and look up at Christ, hanging from his wooden cross on the wall just above where we…

"I'm following Your path," I promise him, forcing myself to have faith, one more time. "I'm trusting You."

As I get undressed, I give the sign of the cross and say a prayer. For the congregation at St. Mary's. For the Swans. For Jasper. For me.

And then… for Bella.

"_Angel of God, her guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here. Ever this day, be at her side, to light and guard, to rule and guide."_

It's an old prayer, the first one I remember my mother teaching me. It feels like the only one I want to say, over and over. Bella feels so far away now, but maybe this, somehow, connects us again.

I think about her laugh, her wit, her fearless honesty. How just being around her makes me feel like I'm a better person, like everything is _exactly _right.

In bed, I crave having her next to me, our legs tangled, fingers twined. Talking. Laughing. Tickling. Teasing.

I pull up YouTube on my phone and search her name just so I can hear her voice, watch her sing. Pretend she's here.

A new video pops up. _Rehearsal Dinner. _It's been posted by… Charlie Swan?

I had no idea the man even knew what YouTube is, much less understood how to upload a video. I'm blown away when I see it already has over five thousand views.

I click on the link. When the song begins, I fall in love with her all over again.

I'm in awe from beginning to end. The way she lets go of her inhibitions. The way she owns the lyrics, believes them. She was in her own world up on stage as her family watched. As I watched. The way her eyes fell on me when she was done makes me almost believe she loves me too.

I swallow down the lump in the back of my throat. This was less than a week ago. I had her here, in my fucking arms. Holding her. Loving her. Starting to dream about a new future for me. For us.

"Christ." I run a hand through my hair. Then I close YouTube and start to text her.

**Hi.**

"Wow."

_Delete..._

**Hey. Ask me anything?**

"Nope." _Delete… delete… delete._

I try to find an actual reason for texting.

**Just watched the best video on…**

"Christ."

_Delete… Delete… Delete..._

Why is this so fucking hard all of a sudden?

I try again.

**You'll never guess who came by to see me today.**

I shake my head because it just sounds... impersonal. _Delete… delete… delete._

**Any dark, dank boxes out there in Minneapolis?**

"Fuck." _Delete… delete… delete._

I try for something more real.

**I miss you.**

But it's not enough, so… _Delete… delete… delete._

_**Just thought I'd text to see if you're …**_

"Jesus." _Delete… _"Fucking." _delete… _"Christ_._" _delete_.

Then I find myself typing what I wanted to say in the first place.

**I love you.**

I stare at that one for a while. Three simple words. I've said them on God's behalf so many times over the years. And I meant it, every time.

But feeling that love within me for Bella is overwhelming. It's all consuming in a way that being a proxy for Him could never be. It makes my heart feel like it's going to burst wide open.

My finger hovers over the send button for an eternity. Ultimately, though, I backspace again until the words are all gone.

_Promise you won't get in touch, okay? _

Then I delete her number from my cell.

xXxXx

Friday morning, I sit in my office again. I stare across at the chairs Bella and I sat in the night she came here looking for some guidance.

From a priest.

A friend.

_Me_.

No matter how many days pass, how many Masses I give, how many parishioners come through the front doors of St. Mary's… or into the dark, dank... _damned _box... I'll never stop thinking about her. I'll see her everywhere. Hear her laugh. Feel her presence.

_Imagine her touch._

"Fuck."

I check my phone. I swear, it's all I do these days.

I know I've got to do something before I lose my mind. Before I decide to do something crazy. Like find out where Bella is and fly out to her. Do the one thing she asked me not to do.

It would no doubt hurt someone. Probably both of us.

Instead, I call Jasper.

As it rings, I close my eyes, still not quite sure this is the thing that needs doing.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Don't answer._

"I was just thinking about you."

"Hey." It's all I can say at first. Words refuse to form. My chest refuses to take in air. My heart refuses to beat.

"What's up?"

"Can you-" My voice cracks a little. I clear my throat. "Can you get a priest here by tomorrow? To give Mass?"

"Are you okay?" His voice becomes urgent. "Do you need me to-"

"I need to go to Europe." It comes out before I can stop it, before I can change my mind. Before I decide to just keep calling and calling and hope I get a call back.

"That's great," he says with a laugh, excited. "I didn't think… but yeah, I'll have someone there tonight. I'm so proud of you, Edward. I'll get the paperwork and-"

"Jasper."

"Yeah?"

"It's not to lead the parish," I tell him before he can get too far ahead himself. There's a pause on his end, one that stretches out and feels like a lifetime.

"Oh," he finally says quietly. "Then-"

"I need you to do something for me."

"Whatever you need," he says like he has so many times before.

As he waits, so fucking patiently, like always. Finally I know this is what I need. And that this is when I need it.

"I need to go now."

* * *

**A/N: If you need a song to listen to - try ******KALEO: _Way Down We Go_.****

****ALSO! _IT IS SUEBEE the BETAFAIRY's BIRTHDAY Y'ALL_! Wish her some srs happiness today because she puts up with a LOT of shit from a certain couple of writers! THANK YOU SO fucking much for all you do for us, lady. We love you 3000.****

****ALSO! Thanks from the bottom of our dark, dank hearts to KATE and ChrisAnn for pre-reading and to you all for loving us despite the heart fail last time. AND HOLY BISCOTTI thanks so much to Steph over at TwiFicNews this week for asking us anything... I mean 10 questions. :) We had so much fun. Go check it out! ****

****If you need to read something a little... lighter? to read... try PrettyKittyArtist's _Black and Blue_. Because OMG. Copward already owns us. OR Ghostreader24's _If You Give a Postal Worker a Love Note. _GAH! F'real love this guy.****

****OK, that is all for now. See you ... Tuesday? ****


	42. Chapter 39 Lent

**Chapter 39 - Lent **

**Bella**

* * *

For the first time in my life, I fly first class. It feels strange and indulgent. It doesn't feel like me, that's for sure. But as I wipe my hands with a warm towel then sip my scotch, I think I could get used to it.

First class or not, this entire trip back home is indulgent. Alec reminded me just how indulgent about a thousand times.

"_You can't go on vacation right after dropping your first album."_

"_This isn't a vacation."_

"_What exactly is it, then?"_

"_It's family."_

Angela's little girl was born early and she's not doing nearly as well as Eddie did right out of the gate. Angela says she has faith - she knows Isabelle is stronger than she looks.

I know, I know. She named her daughter after me. It's probably because everyone used to worry about me too, but all things considered, I turned out okay. Maybe it was partially to piss Ben off. Maybe it's also because I'm Isabelle's godmother.

She's actually my second godchild. I'm also headed home so I can get my hands on little Eddie. I had to miss his baptism since I was back on the road and there was no way I could leave the tour a second time. But Rose has been sending me pics almost daily. That kid is trouble with a capital T. He stays awake all night. He's constantly pulling Rose's boobs out in public. And when he finally falls asleep, he curls all of his fingers into a little fist - all except his middle finger. After his brothers and sisters noticed how much it pissed Rose off and made Emmett laugh, they all started doing it too.

It's only a matter of time before Eddie runs away from home and shows up on my doorstep. I'll be there for him when he does.

I just need a doorstep.

I take another sip of my drink. All thoughts of homes and doorsteps lead to the same place - to a little weather beaten cottage on Manhattan Beach. To strong arms, Catholic vows, and hazel eyes filled with unmistakable love.

Every night since I left Brooklyn, I lie in bed and I pretend my fingers are his. Every night I tell him I love him. And each morning I wake up naked and alone.

I do the best I can. I live the life I've always dreamed about. I owe it to myself and I owe it to him. I want to make sure two hearts broke for a good reason. I hope he's doing the same.

I fucking pray he is. I don't know who or what I'm praying to, but I do it anyway.

When I blink open my eyes, we're high above the clouds.

"Can I get you another drink, miss?" the flight attendant asks.

"Do you have herbal tea?"

She rattles off a long list, and before I know it, I have a piping hot cup, a wedge of lemon, a little container of honey, and a package of fancy crackers to go with it all.

Yeah, I could definitely get used to this.

"Excuse me?" the man seated next to me asks. He's sheepish but very handsome, in an older professor kind of way. His shirt's open at the collar and his tweed jacket looks expensive but well worn. "Are you that singer? The one who won't sing her most famous song?"

My cheeks go warm. After Angela's rehearsal dinner, Dad figured out how to upload his video of _Lost in Love_ to YouTube. Em told his firefighter buddies. Alice told her friends from school. Mom told the ladies from church. Once I was back on the road, some fan or another found it online and it spread like wildfire.

"Probably," I tell him. "Don't know any other performer stupid enough to pull shit like that."

He smiles. "Thought so. My daughter loves you. Plays that da… _catchy_ YouTube clip over and over and over again."

"So _she's_ responsible for all those hits? Thank her for me?"

He chuckles. "Actually," he hedges, "Would you mind?" He offers me his napkin and roots in his pocket for a pen.

"What's her name?" I ask.

I pretended I didn't hear the audience shouting requests for _Lost in Love_ for the first few nights. With each city where I ignored people, the chanting became louder.

Alec confronted me in Toledo when I walked off the stage. "What the hell are you doing?"

"My set," I huffed.

"You know what I mean. Give 'em what they want."

I laughed. "When they want it?"

"When else would you give it to them?" he asked, confused and more than a little annoyed.

I lost any right to sing that song when I left _him_ back in Brooklyn without telling him how I felt. I wouldn't sing it to an audience in Toledo, or Pittsburgh, or Richmond.

It became a game. People shouted. I pretended not to hear them. Or I heard a different request instead. It was the number one question they asked when I gave interviews on college radio. There was an opinion piece about it on BuzzFeed. There was a long list of guesses about why I wouldn't sing it underneath Dad's original post.

Most people figured it was because of Mike Newton.

Mike figured it was about him too.

Who wouldn't, I guess?

I'll tell you who - the people who know me best. My family, and the priest of a little parish in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. But no one was asking them.

"Jess doesn't give a shit if you sing it," Mike told me one night. I was alone on the bus, busy writing. He didn't knock. He just took a seat across from me.

"Good to know." I closed my notebook and set it aside, then looked him calmly in the eye. He'd showered since the show and hadn't bothered to put on a shirt. The strong smell of soap and aftershave filled the cabin and made me feel slightly nauseous.

"I didn't know you felt that way," he said with a smirk. He rubbed a hand over his bare, vow-free chest, relaxed and pleased. Like he'd always suspected I gave my heart to him.

"Never did. Not even close." I pressed my back against my seat in an attempt to get as far away as possible. I clutched my cell, ready for a quick get away or a knee to the groin. Maybe both.

"It's what then? All a publicity stunt?" Mike knit his brows and frowned.

I shrugged. "It wasn't my idea. My dad posted it without my permission."

Mike leaned back in his seat, spread his legs, his hand over his crotch like it just landed there on accident. "No need to play with me like this. All is forgiven."

"I'm here to do a job. Nothing else. I mean, I still really appreciate being on tour."

He leered. "I know. You inked the date I called you." He nodded in my direction, like I was topless too and he could read the effect he'd had on me and my career, written in black ink on my skin.

He was right. He was the reason I was on that bus, playing for stadiums.

Without anyone else's help though, Mike Newton would have destroyed me. It was the last date I added to my list that set me right, that made me believe in who I am, that made me try to be even better.

I wrapped my arms around myself like I had the power to block out Mike's memory of my naked body.

"You're lucky I said yes," I told him.

He bit his bottom lip. "Fuck, yeah I am. You made me feel _real_ lucky."

"Get the fuck off my bus, Mike. I'm writing."

"More songs about me?"

"Get out." I was calm. Didn't raise my voice. I pointed toward the door. "This is business and I have work to do."

"So it _is_ a publicity stunt. That's cool. I can appreciate that. You let me know when you want some more." He grabbed himself and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

"I'm so over this shit." I stood up and held the door open for him. "Get the fuck out now, or I'll call Alec."

With every city where I didn't sing the song, the crowds that showed up just for me got larger, their chanting got louder, and Mike hated me a little more. Eventually, he dropped me from the European leg of the tour with some trumped up excuse.

It didn't matter. With all the buzz, Alec had me signed on to my dream label in weeks. They assured me it wouldn't be hard to pull together an album since I already recorded so much material. I just had to keep touring, keep doing interviews, keep rocking. More than any of that, I had to keep refusing to perform _the_ song.

They thought it was a genius strategy.

It was never a strategy. I was just trying to protect myself and to honor him.

Even that little act of self-preservation helped my career.

He'd helped me so much it wasn't even fair.

_Dear God, I hope those two weeks helped him too. _

I couldn't be sure because Edward was true to his word. He never reached out. I knew what I was doing when I made him promise as much. I just didn't realize what it would do to me. Every day I love him a little more.

I forbid my family to talk to me about him. At first they kept trying, but I shut them down each and every time.

These days, no one mentions his name. There are lots of awkward silences though. Like when they talk about Eddie's baptism, where Emily stood in for me as my proxy, or Christmas Eve mass where Jane sang with the choir for the first time. Or when they mention plans for Liam's first communion in a couple of months.

These days I have to hold myself back from asking.

And now I'm flying home.

Even if I won't see him, I'm flying home to him.

My heart hammers in my chest because he's there. My skin pricks because, unless I hide in the house, I might see him in the street, or at Billy's, or at the corner store buying a pack of smokes.

Would I hide? Would we talk like two old friends? Or would I tell him that he changed me forever.

If I open my mouth, I know which words are likely to come out.

_I love you. _

_You're the best thing to ever happen to me. _

xXxXx

"Bella!" Alice shouts when she spots me near baggage claim.

My little sister dodges crowds and jumps over piles of luggage, then throws her arms around my neck and clings to me. I cling right back. I've missed her more than I realized. I'm surprised to feel tears well in my eyes.

After ages, I hold Alice at arms length. She suddenly looks grown up in a pair of dress pants and a silky button-down shirt. Her hair is shorter, in a neat little bob, she's wearing some eye make-up and some lip gloss. "Who even are you?" I ask. "So posh. So chic!"

Alice's cheeks go pink, but she does a little twirl for me just the same, showing herself off. "I came right from my internship."

She's on her way to a master's degree in social work, interning with Catholic Charities since the beginning of the semester.

"You have to tell me all about it," I say, grabbing my luggage from the carousel.

Alice's eyes are wide as she looks at the people around us. "Is it always like this?"

"Yeah, LaGuardia sucks."

"I'm talking about the staring, Bella. My big sister's famous."

I roll my eyes. "Hardly."

Then the girl next to me gets up the courage to ask for a selfie.

"Where to first?" Alice asks once we're headed home. "We could go right to the hospital. Rose is there with Angie. Or help Mom out with all the kids - she's watching them while Emmett's at the station. Or Jane should be -"

"Manhattan Beach?" I hadn't planned on asking. Some things just happen.

Alice looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Please?" I beg.

"Whatever, weirdo."

xXxXx

At the beach, the sand looks grayer here than it does in L.A. The water looks browner than the deep blue Pacific. The cold wind off the water cuts like a knife, and I wrap my arms around myself, not used to the winter chill.

I spot the cottage right away, the fifth in a row of low, gray buildings partially hidden just past the dunes.

I catch my breath when the back door swings open, when someone tall and broad wearing a worn, white t-shirt backs onto the balcony. Then a tiny human charges past the man, and he lunges to catch the toddler, then swings the child over his head.

The little kid shouts with joy. The boy's dad swings him in a circle. It's not _him_, of course. A small woman pokes her head out of the back door holding out a sunhat and a sippy cup. The guy pulls her outside and the little family sits on the chaise and bundles under a blanket. It's like we were never there.

"You know them?" Alice asks.

Right. I've been staring. I shake my head. "Nah."

Then I notice Alice looking intently at the family. "You?" I ask.

She looks out over the water. "Just a different life than I'll ever have."

I know what she means.

"You and Jane could adopt. Or you could find a donor. You can still have a family."

"First of all, you sound like Mom. I'm twenty-two. Like, back way up with your plans for my uterus."

I laugh and push her toward the water. She charges at me, kicking up wet sand and I scream and dodge.

"Second of all," she tells me when she catches up to me, "It's not the family part. Family is whatever you make it, whoever you make it with. It's just the way the family looks. Sometimes I'm nostalgic for something I never even wanted."

"In a weird way I know what you mean," I glance over my shoulder at figures receding in the distance.

"It's not even close to the same thing," she insists.

"It's something I'll never have either."

Alice rolls her eyes and gives me another playful shove. "The only thing standing between you and a family is your hard head."

"That's not it," I mumble. It's the best I can do.

"Listen, I don't know what happened with you and -"

"No, no, no, no, no," I sing out, my hands over my ears.

"Jesus H. Christmas, you're worse than Liam."

"I told you, Alice. I can't talk about -"

"_Edward_."

"Yeah." _Him._

"Edward Cullen. Say his name, Bella. Say it. Out loud."

I shake my head. I wipe tears from my eyes.

"You're my big sister. I love you. I look up to you. But you're also an idiot."

"Hey!"

"I call 'em like I see 'em. I learned that from you." Alice checks me with her hip.

"You see an idiot?"

"A talented, almost famous, ball-busting idiot who deserves everything. Even the stuff you never knew you wanted."

xXxXx

I manage to make it to the NICU before visiting hours are over for the day. Little Isabelle is about half the size Eddie was when he was born. She wriggles around and kicks her skinny legs in a tiny plastic box. She has a hat on her head, patches over her eyes, and wires everywhere.

"Oh, Izzie," I coo, my hands plastered against the plastic. "Can she hear me?" I ask Angela.

My sister nods. Her smile is brave. "She can hear us just fine. Can't you, my little lady? Can't you?"

Isabelle's legs kick harder. She makes sucking motions with her tiny mouth.

"You know your mommy's voice. Don't you?" Angela asks.

Isabelle starts waving her fists. Her head looks too big for her body as it rocks side to side.

"Feeding time?" a nurse in pastel teddy bear scrubs asks my sister.

Angela settles into a rocker next to the incubator, and I immediately turn my back to her. "What in the world?" she asks me.

"I know all about this shit from Rose. I don't need to see your tits too, Angie."

My sister and the nurse break into a fit of laughter. Even Izzie starts making tiny little huffing sounds.

"Skin on skin is best for preemies," I try to explain. I slowly turn around and peek at the scene through my splayed fingers.

"You're right, it is." The nurse looks surprised that someone like me knows anything about infants.

I didn't know as much as I thought, though. Angie's halfway unbuttoned her shirt and has Izzie clutched to her chest in a snug little pouch. She grasps the thin tube inserted into her daughter's nose while Izzie sucks at the tip of Angie's pinky finger. The girls are nowhere in sight.

"She can't manage sucking and swallowing at the same time yet, but she's getting there. Aren't you, Iz?" Angie looks my way and narrows her eyes. Just a few months ago, any mention of sucking and swallowing would be followed by a snide remark. Instead, we let the moment slide.

"Can I try?" I hold out a pinky finger.

"You washed your hands?" the nurse asks. She truly must think I'm dense.

Angela gently pulls her fingertip from Izzie's mouth. The little girl frets, sucking air and shaking her little head.

"Here, baby girl," I whisper. Her lips are incredibly delicate, like they might dissolve on contact. But when she wraps them around my fingertip, she holds on tight. She sucks so hard I jump a little in my seat.

"Oh my God!" I gasp.

"Right?" Angie asks. "She's really getting the hang of it."

"She's so strong." I stare at the little girl in awe.

"Getting stronger all the time," Angie agrees.

Every time Angie speaks, Izzie sucks harder. "She really does know your voice."

"She's smart and strong," Angie says. "Just like her godmother."

xXxXx

The next morning I'm completely jet lagged as I walk up the path to Rose and Emmett's front door. I don't bother knocking. No one would hear me. The windows practically rattle with the sound of little footsteps stomping and high-pitched voices shouting. Inside, laundry is folded and stacked on every flat surface in the living room. The television is playing cartoons for Grandma, who's napping in the recliner in the corner.

A flash of brown hair runs from the kitchen and takes the stairs two at a time, giggling like a miniature criminal mastermind.

"Liam McCarty, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. No fish sticks in your room!" Mom calls out.

Mom glares up the stairs, like she's debating whether or not to go after her grandson. She looks so much older than she did the last time I saw her. Her hair is graying at the roots and there are a few extra lines around her eyes. For the first time in my life, I think she actually looks like a woman old enough to have six grandkids.

Her eyes light up when she sees me standing in the doorway. She rushes toward me with her arms outstretched.

"I was beginning to think you were too high and mighty for your family." She steps back and looks me over from head to toe. I think I'm okay. I made sure to wear a bra. I haven't had a drink since the plane.

"Green this time?" she asks, fingering my hair. There are worse things she could criticize than my highlights. "Gray-green, even. What kind of color would you call this?"

My hairdresser teased me and called it vomit. I call it hazel… to myself, at least.

"There you are!" Rose shouts as she runs down the stairs.

I can't get over who she's holding. A chubby baby sits up and holds his arms out like he wants me to pick him up.

"Is that Patrick?"

Rose chuckles. "You mean _Eddie_?"

Whatever his name is, the little guy practically dances in her arms.

"Can I?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes. "Hello, Rose. How are you doing, Rose? It's like no one even sees me anymore." She plops down onto the couch and a pile of laundry next to her topples to the floor.

"Gah! Bla! Bur!" Eddie says. One sticky hand yanks my hair. The other grabs my boob. He aims a drooling mouth right for my -

"Hold him this way," Mom says, plucking him out of my arms and sitting him up so he's looking over my shoulder. Eddie tugs my hair hard enough to make my head snap backward.

"Ow! Fuck," I grunt, trying to untangle myself from his fist.

"Isabella!" Mom warns.

I laugh despite the pain. "Grandma's worried you're gonna' say fuck," I tell Eddie as I bop around the room with him.

"Gah!" he shouts. He yanks on my earring.

I hold him out in front of me. "Can you say Bella?" I ask.

"Blah!"

"Oh my God! He said Bella."

"He is too little. He cannot talk, Auntie Bella," my niece informs me, taking the stairs carefully, one at a time.

Two wet, naked kids holding up their middle fingers run past her, practically knocking her down.

"Auntie Bella!" They cling to my legs. I'm suddenly soaked and struggling to stay upright.

"Yo! Get back up here!" Emmett calls. "No nudity in the living room!"

"Bella!" the kids cheer. I sit down in front of the television so I won't drop Eddie. Wet, naked children climb all over me.

"Em? Can you find Liam?" Rose shouts. "He's hiding with fish again."

Eddie tangles with his brother and sisters on the living room floor like he's been doing it his whole life. I guess he has. He gets knocked down, then pulls himself back up. He gets on his hands and knees and rocks back and forth like he wants to launch his chubby little body over his siblings and across the room.

"He's changed so much," I say. "I don't think this is even going to fit." I pull a Black Eyed Peas onesie out of the pocket of my hoodie.

Mom's mouth drops open.

Rose gasps. "You've got to be kidding."

"I mean, I can get him a bigger one," I try to explain. "It's no big deal."

Mom shakes her head like she's bewildered. "But I just folded it!"

"Folded what?"

She roots around in the pile of laundry and finally holds up a pale blue Black Eyed Peas onesie. It's bigger than the one I brought and looks like it would fit Eddie damn near perfectly. Otherwise it's identical.

Mom looks from me to Rose. "I thought you said they weren't speaking."

"_Mom_," Rosalie warns.

Emmett jogs down the stairs holding Liam. It looks like they're both covered in pulverized, processed fish. "Ed sent two?" he asks.

My stomach turns. Partially because fish stick goop is smelly and disgusting. I could lie to myself and leave it at that.

But I know it's mostly because Emmett casually said _his_ name. He called him Ed, like they're friends. I guess they are. I can force people to keep him a secret, but it doesn't change anything. Edward knows my godson better than I do.

I'm suddenly irrationally jealous of everyone. I'm jealous that my family gets to hang out with Edward. I'm jealous of the time Edward spends with Eddie. I know I gave up the right to feel this way four months ago. Somehow that makes it even worse.

"Oh my God, Emmett," Rose growls, then nods in my direction.

Emmett's eyes go wide, but he recovers quickly. "Yo, it's my famous sis-in-law. Welcome home!"

As I try to untangle myself from the pile of kids, he pulls me into a fish stick-coated hug. I give up and go with it. I'm already covered in baby drool and bathwater.

"You two and the Peas," he says. "Like seriously, two peas in a pod." Emmett laughs at his joke.

Rose mouths sorry and shrugs. Grandma snores from the recliner.

"What are the chances?" Mom wonders, holding the two onesies up next to each other.

Emmett shakes his head. "I didn't know you were into Fergie too. You know about the poster he hid?"

"Emmett!" Rose warns. "For the love of God!"

"You don't have to shout, Rose. I didn't say his name."

xXxXx

I wait for my dad on the sidewalk outside his construction site, hiding behind sunglasses and wearing an oversized hoodie. I don't have the time to be noticed. I've been home almost twenty-four hours and haven't seen my father.

"Yo, Dad!" I call when he almost walks right by me.

He glances over his shoulder and smiles wide when he recognizes me. "Baby girl?" He holds out his arms like he did when I was little. I run, charging into them.

"It's so good to have you home," he says into my hair. "I was gettin' worried you wouldn't come by."

"It hasn't even been a whole day."

He steps back and looks me over head to toe. "My kid, a rock star. And I wanted to keep you in Brooklyn."

Dad throws an arm over my shoulder. His tool belt bumps against my hip. The world feels like it's been set right as we start walking home.

"Touring bars in Brooklyn doesn't actually sound half bad," I admit.

"Nah. Bars around here couldn't handle you now that you're a big deal."

"Some of that's because of you and your first ever YouTube video. Kinda rocked my world." I lean my head against his shoulder.

My dad whistles. "Glad something good came out of all that mess. You took my breath away that night. This way everyone gets to see it."

Every day, in cities all over the world, people watch me love _him_. More than _Lust,_ it's my love that pushed me over the top. It was so much easier to ignore on the road, but now that I'm home, the whole neighborhood reminds me of him. He's become part of my family. He changed me forever and I walked away. I must be the worst person in the entire world.

_Sorry, God. _

I laugh a little, despite threatening tears, because I'll never be able to apologize again without wanting a drink. Without thinking of him.

Without thinking about _Edward_.

All I have to do is think his name and a hole feels like it opens up in my chest.

"It feels like I used… _someone_," I admit. With Dad's arm around me I feel safe. Brave enough to talk. "I never wanted to use him. Ever."

"If you feel bad, you can tell it to the Big Guy." Dad stops on the sidewalk and nods across the street.

St. Mary's stands there like a dare, tempting me to throw open the doors and face... _him_. To march in, sit in the confessional, and tell him how I feel.

_I love you. _

_You're the best thing to ever happen to me. _

The church might look strong enough to take it. I don't know if I am, though.

I shake my head. I take a step back. Then another.

"Oh no, Dad. I can't -"

My father checks his watch. "You're good. There's like twenty minutes left for confession."

I wave my hands in front of my face, like somehow it will make him understand. "I haven't even talked to him since the day I left."

Dad's eyes fill with concern. He takes a cautious step in my direction, then clamps a strong hand over my shoulder. "Oh, baby girl. You mean Edward? He's not there. He left right after you did."

Whatever Dad's saying doesn't make sense.

"He's in Europe. Last time I heard he was in Italy."

"But Emmett just said -"

"They Skype. Or FaceTime. However you kids do it."

"You mean, all this time. I don't, I mean, I didn't want to, I couldn't…"

It hits me at once. Ever since I landed I've been afraid of running into him. I didn't know it could get worse. But it can. It did. There's no chance I'm going to see him at all.

The bottom drops out. I can't hold back my tears.

Dad pulls me into his arms. He lets me cry. I feel the pain of our separation more than I ever have before. Now it's real. Now it's over. He's in Europe. After this trip home, I would have been headed there, but instead I'm flying back to L.A.

Edward and I both have lives to live. Dreams to follow. Lives and dreams that don't involve one another.

He's following his path, building his tower. It's what I hoped for. I just didn't know it was going to hurt this much.

Dad unwraps my arms from around his chest. "You, baby girl… you're in the right place. Get your double Catholic ass into that church and lay it all out there. That's what those dark, dank boxes are for."

xXxXx

St. Mary's sanctuary is cool and dark. It's filled with so many memories - from the time I belted out hymns as a kid, to the first time I met _him_. Whispered conversations, confessions, kisses. I can practically feel him in the air around me. I pass the votive candles on my way to the confessional, but double back and kneel. Mary stands over me, calm and loving. He kissed me here.

"Where is he?" I ask Jesus' mom. She doesn't answer. With a shaky hand, I light one of the candles. It flickers and pops.

"Make sure he's okay?" I whisper to the ceiling.

To his pretend boss.

_Fine._ To God.

It was one thing when I thought I could come home to him, but now that he's gone, I have nothing. Not a piece of him. Not a picture. Just a memory that will fade with time. As I kneel in front of those candles I go over each moment, trying to cement them in place. I remember drinking secret wine on the altar, I remember how he grabbed my hand and led me to his office, I remember pulling out his collar by the pulpit.

St. Mary's is everything. Shit, I may never leave.

The door of the confessional creaks as I open it. Inside it's dark and musty.

I see the shadow of the priest on the other side of the partition.

I sniff. He silently waits. I make the sign of the cross with a shaky hand.

"Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been a very long time since my last confession."

The priest nods. "Go on, my child."

"Man, I don't know where to fucking start."

The priest flinches.

"You mind if I say… yeah, you'd probably mind. Sorry?"

He doesn't tell me to drink. He doesn't say a thing. He's probably already tallying my penance.

"I met a guy, Father. He was hot, and funny, and geeky, and he saw something good in me. At the time I was a wreck. I couldn't stand my family. I was drinking. I was ruining my career. I didn't give anyone a fuck- a chance.

"This guy, this amazing guy who was good to the core, he was... already with someone. Like really committed. Like so fu-

"I'm sorry," I tell him. "But I'm just going to have to say 'fuck' if you want me to be honest here."

If the priest has any objections to my language, he keeps them to himself.

"Right. So, this guy, this fucking amazing guy… I fell in love with him and I went for it. We… were intimate, I guess. No guessing about it, really. We were definitely intimate. As many times as we could. Wherever we could."

I leave out the things we probably did in this priest's bedroom at the rectory.

"I think he would have left… this other person. So I lied. I didn't tell him how I felt. He gave me back my family and even gave me back myself. Fuck, it even made me famous. But it broke his heart. I know it broke mine. I'm just so, so sorry. He's gone forever. I know I should be grateful for everything I have. It's all I ever wanted. But the thing is, now I want more. Now I want him."

When I'm done with my confession, I break down into tears.

I lean against the cool wood paneling. I rub my hands over my thighs. The last time I was this upset during a confession, Edward knelt at my feet. He told me I was a good person.

I try to believe it but come up a little short. I decide I can do better. If Edward can Skype with my family from Europe, I can make more time for them too. Stupid, honorable, self-sacrificing priest. He's always making me a better person. Even when he's gone.

This priest doesn't lean his forehead against the grate, confessing that he's done things wrong too. Instead, he clears his throat. "Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough?" My laughter is nervous. He doesn't join in. _Right_. I almost forgot how an actual confession is supposed to go.

"This is all I can remember," I tell him dutifully. "I am…" but I don't finish the prayer. I'm not sorry. I can't be. It's one of the most essential things Edward taught me. I feel terrible, but I have faith we knew what we were doing.

I look at the shadow of the priest on the other side of the partition. "I don't remember the rest of the prayer," I lie. I glance at the ceiling.

_You gotta understand, right?_

"That will be twelve Our Fathers and twelve Hail Mary's."

When I don't start praying the Act of Contrition on my own, the priest begins coaching me through it. I end with a shaky, "Amen."

I sit for a moment and wait for this to feel special like it used to when Edward was here. I try to feel a unique connection with God, something different than how it feels when I murmur little words of prayer throughout the day. Instead, I feel very much alone.

I take one last look at the sanctuary before I leave. St. Mary's will always be special to me because of the moments I've shared here. I may come back to remember, I may come back for my family, but those silent talks with God can happen anywhere. When the doors close behind me, I know I'm leaving the Catholic Church for good.

My dad and I are quiet as we walk back home. He doesn't mention my tear-stained face. I don't say a word about… _Edward_. I've had months of practice, but this evening it's harder than ever before.

Edward had to leave St. Mary's because of me. Now I don't get him and the entire parish doesn't get the benefit of having him either. I try not to worry about the next Alice, or Rose, or Angela that seeks guidance from the church. I cling blindly to faith. Edward said you can't do it wrong.

When we get back home, Dad doesn't even pretend. He heads right to the garage. He holds out his pack of smokes.

"It's nice not having to hide it," he says to me. He raises his eyebrows as he holds out the lighter.

I shrug my shoulders. Take a drag. Hold out the cig. "Since high school," I tell him.

"That's not what I'm talking about, Isabella."

Dad waits patiently.

"I loved him."

Even that's a lie. I summon strength I'm not sure I have.

"I still do," I whisper. "I don't think I'll ever get over him."

"He was standing right in that spot when he told your mom what's what."

"What?" I ask.

"Exactly. Scolded her. Been married to the woman over thirty years and still don't have the balls to talk to her the way he did. Standing up for you. Reminding me it was my job to do the same."

"I didn't know." I stare at the cement floor like I might see an imprint of his feet or where his holy fire left scorch marks.

"That's when I knew," my dad says.

"Knew what?"

"That's the day I knew he loved you. Took him another few days to say the words out loud. And took you leaving for him to say it sober."

"He told you?"

"He confessed while I was in the confessional."

I smile. "He did that a lot."

"He's a strange priest. Always seemed to know what we needed, though."

"When we needed it."

Dad and I finish our smokes and I dutifully collect the butts. Then he sprays the place down with lemon air sanitizer and we head inside for dinner.

xXxXx

I spend the rest of the week with my family. I spend hours at the hospital with Angela and Izzie. I give Rose and Emmett a night off and babysit their brood. I spoil my godchildren practically to death. Alice, Jane and I stay up into the early morning hours talking about my tour, reading some of the short stories Jane's written, and talking about Alice's dreams for the future. I eat dinner at Mom and Dad's almost every night. Mom even joins us for after-dinner smokes in the garage.

Each day Edward's a little further from Brooklyn. Each day I'm a little more certain where I need to be.

"Not a fucking chance in Hell," Alec says when I call him the morning before I fly back.

"It's my home," I tell him. "It made me who I am."

"It's the kind of thing you do after you've made it big. After another five albums. After we get you in a few car commercials. After you play Coachella."

"Coachella's in like twelve weeks," I point out. "This would be after Coachella."

"Summer is for festivals," he insists. "For outdoor venues. For thousands of people showing up just for you."

"Billy Joel played a bunch of piano bars after he released his first album."

"Billy fuckin' who?" Alec argues. "That was like a million years ago. Irrelevant."

"I'm doing this, Alec. With or without you. You've been with me since the beginning. You know me. Don't make me look for someone else."

In the end, he doesn't.

I can't keep traveling the country feeling sorry for myself. It's time I take matters into my own hands. I never felt like I had a home because I never tried to make one.

It's about fucking time I did.

* * *

**A/N: Did anyone out there guess we'd jump four months into the future? Did anyone think Edward would stay in Europe? Is anyone headed to their local dark, dank box because they're furiously cursing me and Jo? Damning us to Hell? Hang in there, okay? Have faith. **

**Thank God for our team - SueBee, ChrisAnn, and Kate. With every chapter we send I hold my breath. With every chapter they send back I'm a little more confident about what we're doing. **

**Next update is later this week. Stay safe out there. **


	43. Chapter 40 Sabatical

**Chapter 40. Sabbatical**

**Father Cullen**

Jasper was right. Rome is fucking amazing.

Sunsets are spectacular, particularly if you're standing at the top of the Dome of St. Peter's Basilica in winter. Three hundred and twenty thigh burning steps to the top but, fuck, worth it. Never gets old.

I avoid sunrises if I can help it. I'm still holding on to the ones I shared in New York with the woman I love, but the countryside is peaceful in the mornings. The communities are close knit, the people are kind, always willing to give a friendly wave or a warm smile.

When I first arrived in Rome, I hit up all the hot spots - the Coliseum, the Galleria Borghese, the Palazzo Altemps, the museums. Even the Piazza di Spagna and the Domus Aurea.

When the dust settled, there was one place that became my favorite.

The Pantheon used to be a Roman temple. Nowadays it's used as a Catholic church. Its official name is Basilica di Santa Maria. That translates to St. Mary's. It's probably why I feel so drawn to the place.

It gets pretty crowded just like every other historical site. I still like to come here to hang out, think, dream… _pray_.

At Mass, tourists come to get a taste of Italian culture, but I watch the priest.

I get swept up in his perfection of the ceremony of it all. He never goes off script. He doesn't use sarcasm in his homilies. He simply lets his years of experience speak for itself.

His voice is calming, soothing. It reminds me of what attracted me to Catholicism in the first place... The comfort and solace that comes with the repetition of the chanting, if you let it.

I could use some comfort right about now because this city, despite its grandeur and nobility, is missing one thing. One person.

Bella.

Christ, she'd love Italy.

I think she'd _really _love the beaches, the castles on the beaches, the tranquility. We could find a place by Santa Severa, maybe. Something with a water view, just us in this quiet corner of Italy.

_Fuck_. I miss that cottage in Manhattan Beach.

I miss the woman I spent two nights with there more.

Bella's always at the forefront of my mind, no matter how far away I am from Sheepshead Bay. She's there in my sleep, during Mass, at the monastery I call home.

Even at the Vatican's counseling sessions.

Just thinking about them gives me pause.

Part of the reason I came to Italy was because I thought I might feel better if I put some distance between me and the things that reminded me of Bella.

It hasn't helped.

But I also came here in hopes of seeing some real change. I hoped to tell her, eventually, that it wasn't all for nothing. That the church could grow to embrace her and her entire family. Each and every one of them. That we had a chance.

I was thorough with my research. I laid out a plan. I outlined my points. I spent weeks waiting for an audience, making sure it was right. I didn't miss anything. I called for advocates, they came too.

In the end, it didn't matter.

The Vatican doesn't have an interest in accepting same sex couples into their church. They won't make a firm stance on the use of birth control but are _very _proud of the fact that they'll pretend it's not happening in extreme circumstances. They certainly aren't willing to entertain the idea of allowing priests a significant other, much less make an exception in my case.

There were a few priests who heard about my discussions. They took me aside and told me I could still have what I wanted. They called it taking a concubine and said it could never be official, but at least I'd be happy.

There are only a couple things wrong with that idea. I can only imagine Bella's reaction to that term. She'd kick anyone's ass who might use it. And I'm not willing to keep what we have… What we _had _a secret.

The Vatican _was _very interested in redeeming me of my sins, giving me absolution and my penance.

Maybe I was naive to think they'd actually listen with open minds, that there was a chance for change. That _I _could somehow spark that change.

Instead of taking anything I had to say into consideration, they offered me counseling.

Full disclosure, I nearly told them what they could do with their offer. Then I reminded myself these are just men. They aren't who my relationship resides with. I owe it to God to contemplate what I want for my future.

I owe it to Bella to find out what's important and not make a rash decision.

To try.

It's all she asked of me when she left.

_Almost all she asked. _She also asked me not to contact her. I've kept that promise. I can keep this one too.

So here I am, months later. Still trying to understand God's will, once and for all. Trying to forgive the shortcomings of small-minded men, to seek His guidance.

The one thing I'm not willing to give them is my confession. There's nothing for me to feel guilty about, despite what any of them believe.

Meeting with Bishop Romero has been enlightening. He's an interesting man who runs a school close by. He's older, so he has tons of stories about the area and families that he's known since he was little.

He doesn't agree with everything that goes on in the church, but he's not willing to make waves either. So he's not someone I feel like I can confide in. Not fully.

I'm careful what I share with him. He doesn't know the name Bella Swan. He never will.

We talk. He listens. He offers advice. Some I take, some I ignore. Some I tell him isn't helpful at fucking all. He's not as open to debate as Jasper is.

Still, I like to think coming here was the right thing to do, despite the fact that I missed the baptism of my godson.

Thank God Jasper was able to stand up for Patrick in my place. And I thank God once again for Skype as I sit down at the end of the day to chat with Emmett.

"Dude, then Liam threw up on Mom and I thought for sure she was gonna toss her cookies too, right then and there."

I laugh uncontrollably at Emmett's animated reenactment of the family photo at Christmas. Tears fall. Shoulders bob. I can barely breathe.

"Rosie's still not talking to me for giving him undercooked fish sticks before the shot was taken."

"_How _exactly do you undercook fish sticks, Emmett?" I shake my head.

"I don't know, man, those stove timers are confusing as fuck."

I try to hide my laughter as Rose passes behind him. She shoots him a glare I've come to know all too well since we started this ritual. He reached out about a month into my sabbatical and reminded me I wasn't alone. The rest is history.

"Hi, Edward." Rose peeks at me from behind Emmett while purposefully ignoring her husband. "How're things over there?"

I wave. "Hey Rose. Great. It's... _great_."

Jesus. Even I don't believe me.

Rose gives me a sympathetic smile as a phone rings on their end. She pulls her cell phone out and checks it. She gives me one last look of pity, then turns her back and answers it.

The upbeat feel of our chat fades. I think I know who's calling. The fact that Rose is talking with her sister just on the other side of this screen makes my emotions spin. Has she been thinking about me at all? About _us_? Does she ever ask about me? Would Rose tell me even if she did? Will Rose tell _her_ I'm right here?

Fuck. Once upon a time things were so easy with Bella, so comfortable. It was the best time of my life. Now everyone gets awkward and tight lipped whenever her name comes up.

Everyone but Emmett.

"How much longer are you gonna hide out in Europe?" he asks.

I shrug. "As long as it takes, I guess."

He raises an eyebrow and purses his lips. I feel like he's about to give me shit, so I clear my throat and change the subject.

"Did you get the box I sent for Patrick?"

He lifts my godson up so I can see him wearing the onesie I purchased. It's perfect.

"I even played him some of their songs. I think he likes them."

"When you're old enough, we'll take you to see them, Patrick," I promise the baby. "You're gonna love Fergie. Hopefully she's back by then."

I figure by the time he's sixteen I'll be able to be around Bella's family without wanting to rip my heart out.

Patrick squeals like he agrees.

Emmett's face freezes mid-laugh. Patrick has a fist full of his dad's lip. The signal's starting to get jacked up. It's time to end the call.

I text Emmett to let him know. He says he'll be in touch.

The announcement they sent is tacked to the wall next to my bed. I laugh when I read the name _Eddie _in print again. His nickname will forever remind me of how Bella and I bickered about it. I still think he'll hate it when he gets older.

A familiar twinge of jealousy sets in as I wonder what she was calling Rose about. I've missed all the big moments in her life since she left - getting back on stage, the way the crowds grew with every city, the night a producer offered her a record deal, her album dropping.

I try to imagine her reaction to seeing _Coastal Places _in stores and online or hearing it on the radio.

When _Mikey Mike's_ concert posters started popping up over here, I decided to buy tickets, just to go. Just to see _her_. I figured if I watched from afar, I'd be lost in the sea of people. She wouldn't even have to know I was there, but then she didn't end up on this leg of the tour.

Speculation about why was all over the internet. I don't buy most of it, but it still stings. The entire world thinks Mike was the love of her life. Sometimes when I'm feeling especially far away from her, I think about how much time she spent with him before I even met her. How I only knew her for two weeks.

Maybe the rest of the world is right. It would make sense for two rock stars to fall in love. We're the ones who shouldn't make sense.

It killed me not to dig her number up and call her, or at the very least call Emmett to find out all the details. I didn't. I've kept my promise. I've respected her wishes to not cross the line she's drawn.

That doesn't mean I don't know where she is, what venues she plays, what songs she writes.

_What song she refuses to sing_.

I open my laptop and pull up YouTube. I put my earbuds in and click on the link to Bella's latest song. This one is live, from Dallas. She looks genuinely happy as she interacts with the crowd, so confident and comfortable, real and raw.

Everything I've fallen in love with.

She smiles for the masses but it's not _the smile_. Not mine.

I guess, on some warped level, I take comfort in that.

With just the first few chords she plays on her guitar, it reminds me of our night out in Manhattan. When we rode the subway. When we saw Emily sing. When we held hands and it felt like the most seductive thing in the world. For those few short nights, I felt like I was the only person that got to see this part of her. Now the rest of the world does too.

I hear hints of Beethoven in this one, but it's unmistakably Bella. I feel like I'm holding my breath to the very last note.

"Fuck." I blink until my eyes don't water anymore. I scroll through the comments to see if she has anything to say about this one.

Sometimes she does, if she's feeling particularly good about it. Other times, her user name doesn't appear throughout them at all. I figure maybe those nights she's out with friends, or maybe she's not confident about how the set went. I haven't decided for sure.

There's one user in particular who seems to truly adore her, whether she comments or not. Everything she does, as a matter of fact. When a new song is posted, TeamStark001 is one of the first to comment.

TeamStark001 loves every song she puts out, every interview, every behind the scenes clip. He saves them all to a playlist he then proceeds to obsess over. During his spare time, he analyzes every lyric, wonders if they're about him. Them. The time they spent together.

I'm TeamStark001, by the way.

I leave her latest masterpiece on repeat as I lay back and close my eyes. I imagine we're on the balcony of our cottage in Manhattan Beach, eating pizza, sharing a bottle of champagne while we debate whether Thanos had a legit reason for wanting to cut the universe's population in half or not. She'd probably take his side. I love her anyway.

As I drift off, I dream about her last day in Sheepshead Bay, I replace the moment she left with another ending, one where she tells me she loves me too. Where everyone else, the church, and the rest of the world just fades away.

xXxXx

Days start to drag the longer I'm here. Weeks bleed into each other.

The more I try to tell myself these feelings for Bella will pass, the more I believe that's never going to happen. She's the first person I want to tell about something new I discover. She's the last person I want to talk to at the end of the day.

Not to mention, I'm starting to question if counseling is doing me _or _the church any good at all. In fact, I plan to tell Bishop Romero exactly that. I even get up early to make sure I can catch him before our next session.

On my way through the courtyard, I notice a group of students yelling and laughing. They're egging someone on. Cell phones are held up high so they can record.

A couple of teachers make their way over. They don't seem to be in too much of a hurry, so I decide to lend a hand.

There's a kid on the ground, bloody lipped and crying in a fetal position. He's getting his ass kicked by a kid half his size who…

"Shit." I know this kid. Or I've seen him around, anyway.

He arrives at school alone, walks to classes alone, eats alone, goes home alone. I've heard some off-handed comments flung at him from time to time. He ignores them for the most part. He's kind of scrawny, shy. And yet, to my surprise, he's not the one getting the shit kicked out of him.

When I try to grab him off of the other boy, I'm clocked in the jaw .

"_Fuck_."

It hurts like hell.

Kids ooh and aah at the fact that an adult would _dare _use such language in a Catholic school. They whisper and laugh. Bishop Romero gives them all warning looks I know too well from my days back at St. Vincents. Then he gives me the same one.

I'm not sorry, but I could probably use a drink anyway.

When we finally get them separated, Bishop Romero takes the bigger kid to the nurse. I tell him I'll take the other boy to the office and he accepts that. In his defense, he doesn't know any better.

With everyone cleared out of the courtyard, I sit the kid down onto a bench. I take the seat next to him so we can catch our breath.

"You speak English?" I ask him. He looks up at me and crosses his arms. He rolls his eyes like he's some five-foot tall badass who doesn't need to tell me shit.

I try to hide my amusement. Not only could he be Bella's long lost relative with his hell on wheels rebellious attitude, but I'm pretty sure he speaks English.

We sit there, quietly. It's cool. I could use some quiet and a little bit of time to figure him out. He's brooding and angry. _God_, I see myself in him. It's been years since I felt like that, but this kid's expression brings it all back.

I pull out a cigarette and light it. He gives me a look out of the corner of his eye. He knits his brow but still doesn't say anything.

I take a drag. "Wanna talk about it?"

He turns in his seat, so his back is to me. He stares at the ground because it's just so fucking fascinating.

I laugh a little. "That's cool. I know the feeling. I used to get into a lot of fights when I was your age, too."

He peeks back around at me, full of doubt.

I nod. "Yeah, me." I laugh some more, and he's trying not to. We both know it's funny though. It's hard for kids to imagine priests doing anything like that.

I remember the first time I saw Jasper lose his temper. It was the first time I saw him as someone other than this larger than life, godly representative in charge of everything I did.

"Used to feel like it was the only way to get my feelings out, ya know?" I explain. "About my dad. My mom. They were just so..." I growl and grab at the air like I'm choking some sense into my parents nearly fifteen years later.

The kid situates himself so we're face to face again. He's dying to ask, so I give him the answer, hoping it makes him feel a little more comfortable.

"They died when I was about your age. Fifteen?"

"_Quattordici_," he says finally. I give him a smug yet impressed nod.

Smug because he thinks I don't know any Italian.

Impressed because, "You've got a mean right hook for fourteen." I make a fist and point to my chin. "That's gonna leave a mark."

He grins and ducks his head. I take one more drag of my cigarette then crush it and toss the butt into a trashcan.

"So what's your excuse? Why?"

He doesn't want to say.

"Sure you don't wanna talk?"

He shakes his head, defiant. Offended I would even ask. "Not to a _sacerdote_."

"Tell you what." I pull my collar out and slide it into my front shirt pocket. "For the next hour, or, however long you need, I'm just Edward. No strings attached. No, eh, _il effecto_, um, _negativo_?"

He grins and rolls his eyes. "_Effetto." _

"Right. _Effetto_. _Grazie_."

He thinks it over. His expression tells me he doesn't know if he can trust me, but he wants to, desperately.

I don't push. It'll only give him more reason to believe I'm untrustworthy.

The kid finally nods, and for the next hour or so, we just fucking talk. We manage to communicate with his broken English and my shitty Italian. Afterwards, I'm filled with something I haven't felt since I left Sheepshead Bay.

Something I needed to be reminded of. Something I have to keep holding on to.

Hope.

xXxXx

"You are lying." Marco eyes me suspiciously as we sit at lunch. He's been listening to a hot new artist who's breaking out fast and furious in Europe. I happen to mention I know her family.

"Swear to the Big Guy." I hold a hand up.

"Lying about what?" his friend, Giuliana, asks as she takes a seat next to him. Marco's come a long way over the past few months - opening up, putting himself out there, making friends, even.

He nods in my direction as he answers her. "_Dice_ _che conosce_ Bella Swan."

Every time I hear her name, no matter how long it's been, there's a dull ache in my chest. I manage to smile through it.

Giuliana laughs and rolls her eyes. She opens her bag and huffs like Marco just told her a lame joke. "_Sta mentendo_."

She gives me a pointed look. "You are lying."

I throw my hands up. "Why is this so hard to believe?"

Marco raises an eyebrow. "Because she's Bella Swan and you're…" He looks me up and down, waving a hand like it's obvious. "_disadattato_."

"I take offense to that." _I think._

The way the two of them laugh, I assume it was an insult.

I'm not about to tell them about how she broke my heart. I am about to give them a lecture on how even a _disadattato_ like Captain America is _someone's _cup of tea, when we're very rudely interrupted.

"Father?" Bishop Romero's secretary interrupts us. The small, gray haired woman hasn't smiled once in all the time I've known her. Today is no different. "The bishop asked me to fetch you."

I take a breath and nod. "I'll be right in."

She shoots me a stern glare, disappointed that I'm not ready to jump out of my seat and run when the bishop calls. I don't give a fuck. I have something more to say to Marco.

My own counseling has been… fine. I've gotten a kick out of learning more about the history of the Church and the city it calls home. But this kid's given me purpose. Truth be told, he's mostly what's kept me here in Rome this long.

Not that we need to get mushy. We're beyond that.

"Guess this is it." I smile over at him as the bishop's secretary heads back into the school. I'm either getting assigned a new parish, or being told I'm beyond redemption.

Marco grimaces but doesn't answer.

I point to myself. "_Buona fortuna_?" I could use all the luck I can get.

He doesn't have anything to say to that either.

"You're gonna be fine. You know that, right?" I tell him. He nods but glances down at his food.

Giuliana elbows him. "Stop it. He is right. We are going to be fine." I fucking love that she said _we._ A reminder he's not alone, that she's got his back.

A hint of a smile starts playing at the corners of his mouth.

He's gonna be fine.

"You've got my number. If you need anything, I'm a call away. Or a text. Whatever you need."

"When I need it," he finishes. And my chest tightens because the only other person I've ever used those words with is a world away. I don't know if I'll ever hear from her again either.

"Kay." I tap the table and get up to go. He runs around to hug me before I can leave.

xXxXx

The inside of Bishop Romero's office has always reminded me of mine back at St. Mary's. There are two large chairs across from his desk, lots of books, and a photo of the Pope behind him. I've wondered if there's a poster of some rock star taped to the back of it. I haven't had the nerve to ask him though. With one look at his grumpy expression today, I'm thinking _no_.

Usually we start our discussions out with philosophy and ease into my issues with the Catholic Church and their issues with me. Today we skip philosophy.

"I'm very proud of you, Father Cullen."

Somehow, it doesn't have quite the same effect as when Jasper says it. First of all, he hasn't used my first name since the day I met him. Secondly, the guy says he's proud like he's reading from a script.

After he proceeds to list all my strengths and weaknesses, he makes a point to explain all the wonderful things I'm capable of. How natural I seem to be with helping lost souls find their way. That he's grateful Marco has had me to confide in over these past months, but that the Church needs men like me out in the parishes. The _front lines, _he calls them.

It's all very nice to hear, and most of it even feels right. But I've come to a different conclusion than he has.

He says I'm destined for great acts, and in his own, roundabout way, he says it's because Jesus tells us that success is everything.

We apparently have very different opinions on what success means.

Also, Jesus never fucking said that.

"Where?" I ask.

"_Mi scusi_?" He looks confused.

I pick up a Bible and try to hand it to him. "Where does Jesus say that exactly?"

The bishop holds a hand up like it's not necessary for him to look.

I lean back in my seat. "_Cazzate_."

"Father Cullen."

I wave a hand. It's not worth debating when the other person can't hear you anyway, and doesn't want to.

He changes the subject.

"Ordinary life is rather boring, Father," he tells me with great conviction.

"Agree to disagree," I shoot back. Because the few nights I spent with Bella were anything but boring. I'd take that life with her in a heartbeat.

He breathes deep like his tolerance for me is wearing thin. He reminds me how important it is for me to never break my vow of celibacy, but I already know how easy it was to break it once I understood it had nothing to do with my promises to God.

Because being with someone you care about this deeply, who you _love… _who can be a partner in your life, is a natural part of being human.

I try not to dwell on the fact that she's not _actually _my partner in life.

Bishop Romero pulls out a file with my name on it, opens it up, and picks up a form.

I'm pretty sure he's about to give me his final thoughts on my "situation" with the Vatican. He's going to explain to me where I go from here when he gets an urgent phone call.

"_Mi scusi un minuto_." He steps out into the hallway and closes the door.

I welcome the room to breathe. I've had one too many lectures on how to keep my relationship with God pure.

As I wait for the bishop to return, I think over my time in Italy.

I'm glad I came. I've kept my promises to everyone involved. I've been to counseling, like Jasper wanted. I've taken classes like the Vatican requested. I've prayed. I've read. I've prayed some more. I've spent days on end in silence. My thoughts were supposed to stay on God. I couldn't help letting them drift to Bella.

_You need to figure out what else you care about. Besides me._

And then I think about Marco and how incredibly good it felt to meet him, help him, guide him. I became his confidant. I was so grateful to offer him the same tools Jasper gave to me once upon a time.

The longer I sit here thinking about the things that make me truly happy - building a relationship and making a difference in a person's life - the more I wonder what the fuck I'm doing here with Bishop Romero. He doesn't even know me. He's got the same perspective as every other official in the Catholic Church. I don't need them to tell me what I should be doing.

I already know.

I don't waste another minute. I grab my jacket and walk out.

I pass Bishop Romero. He doesn't even notice me.

I pass his secretary. "_A dopo_, Maria!"

As I walk across the courtyard, I wave to Marco. He's off to his next class with Giuliana.

At the monastery, it doesn't take me long to pack my things. I didn't bring much. When I grab my Bible, three small notes float to the ground, notes I haven't seen in a few weeks. I pick them up and read each one. The last gives me pause.

_The greatest of these is love._

I slip that one into my shirt pocket, next to my heart.

I know what I love, what's most important, and what I can leave behind.

I tug at my collar and pull it off.

A flood of memories hits me as I stare down at the small white band - my shitty childhood then finding purpose at St. Vincents and a mentor in Jasper. I see the path God's had me on so clearly, from the moment I said my vows, to getting my own parish, to meeting Bella and falling in love with her. Even the aftermath of saying goodbye. That aftermath was important too.

I inhale and it's like I'm breathing for the first time.

No matter how often I question Him, no matter how many wrong turns I fear I'm making, He always finds a way to remind me not to lose faith.

I close my eyes and I thank God for the collar. I thank Him for everything it's taught me and everyone it's brought into my life.

Then I leave it on the bed.

I catch a ride to the airport and my heart hammers hard inside my chest as I wait in line for a ticket.

My stomach is in knots as I board the plane.

I have clarity of purpose as I take my seat.

I have no patience as I think about where I need to be and when I need to be there.

It's going to be scary and heart wrenching, lonely as hell without Bella there, and fucking messy because the only family I love is tied to the one person who doesn't want to hear from me.

Regardless, it's time to go home.

* * *

**A/N: _Molte grazie_ to Monica for checking our Italian this week! ALSO to SueBee for making sure we remain grammatically and figuratively correct, to Kate & ChrisAnn for their pre-reading blessings on this chapter, and to you all for having faith!  
**

**FYI: Next week our days are screwy - so look for updates on Wednesday and Friday instead of Tuesday and Friday. I take full responsibility, and I'm not even sorry, but I'll have a drink anyway. OK maybe I'm a little sorry. *drinks at 8:30am* **

_**A dopo!**_


	44. Chapter 41 The Good Way, Part I

**Chapter 41. The Good Way, Part I **

**Bella**

* * *

The D.J. nods in my direction and the 'On Air' sign lights up over the door. Alec gives me a thumbs up and a confident nod. I take a deep breath and reposition the headphones over my ears. I've done a million interviews but this one feels different now that I'm back home.

"We're back. I'm Sam Uley."

"And I'm Embry Call."

"Embry and I are here in the FUV studios with Bella Swan. Our regular listeners know that Embry and I can't get enough of her debut album, _Coastal Places_."

Sam picks up a legal pad and starts reading directly from his notes.

"_Coastal Places_ is, in a word, disarming. With each track, bold and intricate instrumentation underlies sweet simplicity and vulnerability in the vocals.

"Earlier versions of some of these tracks could be described as electronic soundscapes, but this album adds much-needed depth and warmth without losing the spontaneity and exuberance of the originals. Embry and I were talking earlier, Bella, and we both hear influences from musical visionaries like St. Vincent and Liz Phair. Hell, I could even hear The Roches and, dare I say it, Janis Joplin?"

Sam glances up from his notes and smiles shyly at me from across the console.

"No. Don't you dare say it." I laugh. My face is on fire. From across the studio, Alec rolls his eyes.

"You can definitely say it," Alec tells Sam and Embry off mic.

My manager is _so _wrong. Poor Janis is probably rolling in her grave... then grabbing a smoke and knocking back a shot of Southern Comfort to deal with the insult. Okay, maybe Alec has a point.

_Maybe_.

I narrow my eyes. Alec laughs.

"Bella's in New York to kick off her Bars in Brooklyn tour. This is a homecoming for you, isn't it, Bella?"

I reposition the mic and plaster a smile on my face. Alec always says I sound more appealing when I smile.

"Yep, Brooklyn girl, born and raised. Unlike Janis Joplin who was born in Port Arthur, Texas," I say, staring Alec down.

Embry and Sam laugh. Alec gives me a side eye that could rival Alice's.

"Brooklyn in August is brutal though. Maybe you shoulda' went with Bars in Brussels?" Embry jokes.

"Nah. New York in August is special."

"Ha! _Special_," Sam cuts in. "Yes, it's very _special_ out there today."

"Listen, don't crap on my city, Sam Uley. You know what they say about not being able to take the heat."

"Last time I checked, this wasn't a kitchen, Bella Swan." Sam raises an eyebrow, and keeps up the eye contact as he takes a swig of his drink.

I nod to the D.J. and raise my cup of herbal tea. _Well played_.

"Whew! It just got hot in here." Embry chuckles and playfully runs a finger under his collar.

"Wouldn't you rather spend August in the Hamptons?" Sam asks me. "Cold water, cold drinks, half naked on the beach?" The way he's staring at me it's pretty clear this is an open invitation. One I'm not interested in.

"Listen, I don't know where you were raised, Sam, but _real _New Yorkers spend summer in the city. Concerts in the park, Italian ices, Coney Island hot dogs, empty streets where heat ripples off the pavement, hot nights with a cold beer. It's not like anywhere else in the world."

Embry laughs. "Is the Mayor paying you, or are you doing these ads for free?"

"You almost have me convinced," Sam says, like we're the only two people in the room. "I'd like to try a Bella Swan summer in the city tour."

I press my back against the chair and take a good long sip of my tea.

"So you're back in Brooklyn for the hot dogs and Italian ices?" Embry smiles ruefully, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the air.

It might seem weird, but I love New York in the summertime. When I was a kid we didn't even have air conditioning. The overwhelming heat makes me feel grounded. Sticking to bed sheets on summer nights makes me feel at home.

I am so ready to be home.

Fucking home. At last.

"I came back for my family," I explain. "Headed to Brooklyn the first chance I got. Those other things I mentioned are just perks."

For a split second, Sam's line of vision dips below my neckline. Then he's looking into my eyes again. I thank God I listened to my mom and wore a bra.

I glance at the ceiling.

_Thanks, God._

"I think I read somewhere this tour was actually your father's idea," Embry says, snapping me out of my… _prayer_.

Fine. I pray. Okay? It's no biggie.

Embry clears his throat.

Right. I have to focus. I can talk silently to the Big Guy later.

"It's kind of a funny story," I tell Embry. "My dad used to joke that I could be just as successful touring bars in Brooklyn. I'd make fun of him for it, but he has this super annoying habit of being right. Don't tell him I said that, okay?"

"You want me to bleep that out?" Sam asks with a wink.

"Nah, it's about time he knew. For the record, though, my mom's still wrong about _almost _everything."

Except bras, I think to myself as I fold my arms across my chest. Sam pretends he wasn't looking. Again.

"I know you started out in Brooklyn bars," Sam says, "But you're just a few months out from touring North America with Mikey Mike. Not to mention South by Southwest, Bonnaroo, Coachella... I probably missed a few. What's your poison, Bella Swan? Stadium shows or stripped down sets in intimate settings?"

I think about the past year. How thousands of people shouting your name make a sound bigger than the ocean. How when a whole field of people stomp their feet and clap, it makes a vibration that moves right through you. But how none of it compares to just me and a mic on a little stage, singing for _him_. Me on a chaise looking out over the ocean, singing while he holds me in his arms.

"Those productions this past year…" I glance over at Alec and he smiles in encouragement. "My manager took little ideas and made them into something bigger than I could have ever imagined. And I'll always be grateful for the opportunity Mike gave me. He had faith I could carry my end of the bargain, more faith than I had in myself back then. Up until that point, I made my best music in my bedroom, you know?"

"Hella different than what goes on in my bedroom," Sam says. His innuendo is unmistakable. I push myself back from the console and concentrate on Embry.

"This tour's gonna take me back to my roots, honor the people who supported me while I was coming up. And it gives me time with my family. Without them, I wouldn't be here today."

There's one person I don't give thanks to on air. One person I've left out of every single interview. I've tried to make sure that the time we shared would never interfere with his ability to be a priest. I'd never want the world - especially anyone back at St. Mary's - to know he'd broken his vows.

I've been home less than twenty-four hours, but I'm already dying to blurt out his name live on the radio. I'm already itching to head back to St. Mary's. I can't wait for Sunday Mass, even though I know he won't be there.

Most people feel closer to God in church. I feel closer to Edward.

"You know what we have to ask, right?" Sam says.

"About E-... every song in my set?" They're not going to ask about him. They don't even know his name.

"About the one song that's never part of your set," Embry counters.

I sigh. Alec gives me a subtle thumbs up. My personal heartache is the gift that keeps on giving.

"You guys know I have no comment."

"We couldn't help but notice the last time you played it was at a bar in Brooklyn. Any chance lightning might strike twice?"

"I mean, I generally never say never, but, um, _never_. Not gonna happen. Sorry, fellas."

"You know there's speculation it's about -"

"It's not!" I say loud enough that Embry jumps in his seat. "I've denied it a million times, but no one listens to the person who actually wrote the song or anything."

From across the studio Alec raises his eyebrows. He gives me a stiff nod. I take a deep breath and take a sip of my tea. "I'm gonna keep my private life private. I won't ask about your love life if you don't ask about mine. Deal?"

xXxXx

"Ugh, Sam Uley is such a sleazeball." I shudder as Alec and I step onto the elevator after the interview.

Alec holds the door open for me and shakes his head. "He really wasn't though."

"He was totally hitting on me, like on the air."

"You ask me, I saw a single guy flirting with a smokin' single babe. That's… _normal_."

"You're my manager. I thought you're supposed to, I don't know, protect my interests or something?"

I wave a hand at him, flustered, but Alec is unphased. He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the elevator. He does this all the time - waits for me to settle down before telling me his side of things.

"Listen, B," he says quietly.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Listening."

When I blink my eyes open, I'm calmer. I notice how Alec dressed up for the interview. Underneath his leather jacket, there's a shirt and tie. I also see clear concern in his eyes.

"Part of looking out for you is making sure you're happy. I'm not saying we need another Mike situation on our hands, but you're young. You're single. You shouldn't be spending every night alone. A couple drinks on the beach with a guy who worships you? There are worse things in the world."

A beach. A guy. Someday it's going to mean something besides Edward.

Today's not the day.

I swing my guitar over my shoulder as we walk out of the elevator. Alec holds the door open for me and flinches as he's hit by a wall of humid heat. I lower my shades, plaster another smile on my face, and step outside. Fans have been camped in front of the studio, baking in the sun. I stop for selfies - it's the least I can do.

"Bella's gotta go," he explains to the tiny crowd. He takes me by the arm and steers me toward a black town car with tinted windows.

"What the fuck is this?"

"It's a new contraption they just came up with. Four wheels, seats, a motor..."

"But the train's like a block away. It'll take me right home."

Home, the word rings in my chest like a church bell. I can't fucking wait.

"Yo, you do _not _need to take the subway anymore."

Alec presses his hand on the small of my back like that's going to get me to do what he says, but I playfully shove him away. His chest is solid, but he takes a step back like I burned him with my touch. "What? Are you scared of the subway?"

"Scared I might pass out. It's gotta be over a hundred degrees out here." He pulls off his jacket and mops the sweat from his forehead.

"And you're trying to tell me I'm uptight? Live a little!" I grab his hand. Alec startles like I've shocked him, but he grips my fingers as I pull him down the block. Fordham Ave is bustling with vendors hawking mangos on sticks, selling sun hats, and pushing carts full of coco helado and ice cold bottles of water. Friends stand around eating fast food and shooting the shit.

Heat radiates from the subway entrance like a furnace. "This is insane," Alec says, gazing down the steps like he's staring into the Hellmouth. He loosens his tie and the top few buttons of his shirt. He smirks down at me. "The things I fucking do for you."

"Riding the subway to prove your love? Who needs Sam Uley when I've got Alec Volterra?" The tops of Alec's cheeks go pink. It's probably the heat.

"The subway's probably the least of your sacrifices when it comes to yours truly."

"The subway's worth it," he says.

On the platform, we're both instantly covered in a sheen of sweat. My t-shirt sticks to me like a second skin. Alec looks like someone doused him with a fire hose. He leans against a steel support beam and pushes his wet hair from his forehead.

Mercifully, the train comes in minutes and Alec and I sink into our seats like someone stole our bones. Covered in sweat and blasted with chilly air, goosebumps tremble to life on my skin. I pull my wet hair into a messy bun.

With each stop the train fills up a little more, until Alec has to lean across the aisle for me to hear him. He looks me in the face, serious and sincere. "You need to stop being such a dork in interviews, okay?"

I shrug. "It hasn't hurt me so far."

He rolls his eyes. "Stop selling yourself short. The next time someone compares you to Janis Joplin, you say 'thank you very much, kind sir'."

"Kind fucking sir? Really?"

"You know what I mean. Stop being difficult for the sake of being difficult."

"I'm being difficult for a very good reason. I'll never in a million fucking years say I'm like Janis Joplin."

Alec looks me up and down. "Maybe you're right. You're no Janis. You're more _Alanis..._ Morissette. _You, you, you oughta know_," he sings.

I lunge across the aisle and give Alec a shove hard enough that he slides into the empty seat next to him. He practically doubles over laughing. When he sits up straight there are tears in his eyes.

Heat rises to my face despite the freezing cold air. "Don't make me kick your ass."

Alec's eyes sparkle. "Not Alanis either? Who do you think you are, Bella Swan? Fergie?"

My stomach drops to the floor. My eyes burn. I scoot away from Alec. For a few minutes there, I almost forgot _him_. For a few minutes there I was just hanging out with a friend, with a guy who's been my constant ever since the last time I left Brooklyn.

The last time I left _him_.

"What's up?" Alec asks.

The conductor announces the Barclays Center stop. I'm home.

* * *

_**Edward**_

I fight my way through a crowd of people to get on the subway car. It's hot. It's muggy. I don't have time to wait for another train.

As I step inside, I'm sideswiped by someone lugging something bulky over their shoulder while they push their way through the same crowd to get off.

"Sorry."

I stop short at the sound of her voice and try to catch a glimpse of her through the window. A flash of brown hair disappears into the sea of people out on the platform.

It wasn't her. It couldn't be. Why would she be on the subway?

I'm still half asleep.

Fuck.

I forgot how many hours school requires, how much work studying entails. But if I don't get a Masters in Mental Health Counseling, I can't help kids at a professional level, so here we are.

Here _I_ am.

And I wouldn't change a damn thing. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

_Thank you for the path I'm on, Lord._

My path.

It seems like forever ago I was just saying my vows for the first time. It seems like yesterday I was in Italy because I'd broken them.

After everything, it was an easy decision to leave the priesthood behind. Easy to give Jasper my official resignation. Easier than I ever thought possible.

Leaving St. Mary's was not easy.

I miss writing a good homily each week. I miss working to understand the scripture, leading Mass, chatting with parishioners afterwards. I do not miss the rules, the fear of breaking those rules, or the unwillingness of the church to compromise.

At first I was resentful. It stings when you realize the people you're giving your all to aren't willing to do the same for you.

It was a good month after coming home from Italy before I stepped foot inside any church at all. I spent another three trying out different religions to see what fit with my beliefs.

The Protestant Church feels right. The only thing that's difficult to get used to is not confessing my sins to someone in a dark, dank box. It's a small difficulty though, one I'm happy to live with.

Jasper's slowly getting used to my shift in beliefs. Our differences of opinion make for entertaining conversations. Ultimately, he knows I'm still me. I'm still steadfast when it comes to my faith in God, despite my struggles to get back into school mode.

I forgot how hard it is to juggle college _and _a job. Half the time I'm running on three to four hours of sleep, which is why I was very close to getting locked out of class this morning and why I missed the train on my way to meet up with Emmett for lunch.

_Why I'm seeing things. _

_People._

_Bella._

It gives me flashbacks of riding the train with her into NYC. Flashbacks of awkward first conversations and holding hands. The beginning of something special. Meaningful.

The beginning of love.

These days it doesn't hurt quite as much to think about her. I can actually smile at the memory of being backstage with her and Emily and how absolutely flawless and gorgeous Bella was in her element. How she's thriving in that element now.

But even though it doesn't hurt quite as much, I still feel a pang of emptiness inside my chest.

I fucking miss her.

I try not to dwell on how I'm not part of her life anymore. It's enough to know she's happy. She has her family as a support system, something she never thought she had before.

xXxXx

At Shake Shack, Emmett's waving from a corner in the restaurant.

"Sorry I'm late!" I pull up a chair and run a hand through my hair then toss my bookbag under the table.

He quirks an eyebrow and checks his watch, but I know he's just giving me shit.

"No big," Emmett says, then tells his son, "Say hi to Edward, Patrick."

"Dee!" Patrick squeals.

I'm impressed. "That's close, I mean... " I laugh. "As long as he doesn't put an '_eh_' in front of it."

Emmett snorts as he hands his son over to me.

As I set my godson onto my knee, I remember the night he was born. I was with Bella.

When she left, it broke me, but it also made me realize I need to be thankful for the people I have in my life. _While _I have them.

"Thanks for making the time to meet me, Emmett."

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "Like I'd ever say no to lunch."

I peek over at him. "You realize between you calling him Patrick and Rose calling him Eddie, he's gonna be one _really _confused kid."

Emmett ignores me and nods toward my chest instead. "We just watched that one again this weekend. Rosie bawled her eyes out when Stark died. _Again_."

"Like you didn't."

"Whatever." He knows I'm right. I've seen it. Besides, who _doesn't _cry when Stark dies?

"I've only got like forty more minutes," Emmett reminds me. "But I already ordered for both of us." He slides a tray toward me.

"Thank God. I'm starving." I hold Patrick up to see how big he's gotten. "What are you up to today, little guy?"

"He's been helping me run errands for Rosie. She's got a… _thing_." He says it like either he's completely forgotten what it is his wife is up to or doesn't want to say. Considering who's in town, it's probably the latter.

"Gotcha." I settle Patrick down into his stroller and grab a bite of my burger. I feel the need to make a confession about something that's been weighing on my mind.

I guess it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks.

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" He takes a long sip of his shake.

Emmett's pretty intuitive, but I'm not sure I want to get into this right now.

"Just tired," I try to explain.

"No, it's something else." He looks like he's deep in thought as he eats some french fries. Then he points one of them at me. "Spill."

I take a sip of my shake. If I try to blow him off, Emmett's going to keep hounding me until I give in. So I set my drink down and take a deep breath, then lean toward Emmett so I don't have to say it too loud.

"I think I went on a date last night," I whisper across the table.

Emmett's eyes get huge. He drops the fry he's been holding. Then he starts laughing until his whole body shakes and he chokes on his food.

"What do you mean you _think_?"

"I mean, I thought I was meeting a bunch of people for a study group and it turned out it was just this woman… and me."

I met June a couple of weeks ago. She seemed… nice. She didn't seem to care that I used to be a priest. Plus, if I'm being honest, she reminded me a little bit of someone else.

Emmett's mouth turns into an "O". He nods his head. He narrows his eyes.

"I know you've been out of the game a while, but that's not really considered a _date_, Ed."

"I know that, Emmett. _Christ_." I roll my eyes. "It's what happened after that."

"Maybe you need to fill in the blanks."

I take a moment to gather my thoughts. Then I take a breath before I begin.

"Once we both realized no one else was coming, she suggested we grab a drink."

"I mean, seems logical," Emmett says with a shrug.

"Right. I didn't see the harm in it. I really needed a night off so…"

"So…?" He waves a french fry at me, goading me on.

"We grabbed a booth. We talked a little while. It was... awkward at first."

"Yeah, first dates suck." He laughs.

"This wasn't supposed to be a date though."

"Whatever. Keep going." He sips on his shake but listens intently.

I take another cleansing breath. "I asked her what she thought about our lecture that morning."

"Hold up. What?"

"It's all I had, Emmett. Do you want me to finish the story or not?"

"Dah!" Patrick says. Emmett shakes his head and hands Patrick his sippy cup. "You suck at dates."

"It wasn't a date."

"Right," he gives me the 'okay' sign. I roll my eyes.

"Then she started talking about this band playing down the street. Asked if I wanted to go."

"See? _She _knows how to date."

I sigh. He's killing me. "I said I didn't really want to, so she ordered us some more drinks. Then I started loosening up a little, you know? Asked about her thoughts on Eric Bana versus Mark Ruffolo's performances as Hulk."

Emmett bursts into a fit of laughter and I wait. When he finally calms down he nods his head. "Yeah, I guess that would be your version of loose."

I try not to take it personally. "Yeah, she laughed too. Said she was sorry, but she doesn't _do _superhero movies."

I remember feeling buzzed when she said it. I told her to _drink_ but she didn't get it. At all.

"She sounds kinda boring." Emmett yawns to really drive the point home.

"Right?" I lean in again. "That's when she asked if I was dating anyone."

"Oh shit." He covers his eyes with his hand. "Tell me you didn't take the next hour to explain to this girl how you lost the love of your life."

"I did not." I wanted to, but I have some self-respect.

He looks up at the ceiling and claps his hands together. "Thank you, God."

Patrick giggles from his stroller.

"You stay out of it," I tell him. I glance up at the ceiling. "You too."

"Well?" Emmett passes a fry to his son. Patrick stares at it like it's an alien creature.

"Hmm?"

"What did you say to the woman who was clearly on a date with you and asked if you were single?"

"I mean, I didn't know _how _to answer her. I just kind of blanked."

"For future reference, you say 'I'm single'."

Easy for Emmett to say.

"Duly noted," I tell him.

"That it?" He smirks. "That wasn't so bad."

I take a deep breath and hold it for a minute. I may feel the urge to confess, that doesn't mean I have the right to divulge the entire night.

I trust Emmett though and quite honestly, I could use a friendly ear.

"Ed?"

I peek around at the tables near us and hope no one's listening in.

"Then, she um… climbed into my lap... and kissed me."

"Get the fuck outta here!" He holds a fist up, ready for me to meet him halfway.

"Jesus, Emmett." I glance around to make sure he didn't get the _entire _restaurant's attention.

When I don't bump his fist, his expression changes. "No?"

I shake my head. "No."

"So?"

"_Fuck_." I groan. I drop my head into my hands and rub my temples.

I remember how I pulled away from her, surprised and unnerved. Disappointed.

That kiss erased Bella from my lips.

Sitting at the bar with June in my lap, everything felt… final.

"I get it." Emmett winks. "I don't need to hear the rest."

xXxXx

_June was oblivious to what she'd done._

"_Not a big fan of PDA?"_ she whispered in my ear. "_We can go back to my place. I'm over by Manhattan Beach." _

_I sat there stunned as flashes of a cottage over in Manhattan Beach flooded in my mind - a balcony, a bed, Bella's mouth on mine, hovering over her, naked. The condoms, the laughing, the teasing. _

Prove it.

Would you show me how?

_I was still trying to catch my breath from the tidal wave of memories as June scooted out of the booth, pulling me along with her._

_I tugged my hand away from hers. "I don't think so." _

_She laughed. "It's okay, Edward. Really." _

"_It's not okay with me," Maybe I sounded a little harsher than necessary, but that kiss changed everything. _

_I'd been dead wrong. June's brown hair wasn't quite the same color as Bella's. Her eyes were more hazel than brown. Her smile seemed disingenuous. She didn't even know which Marvel character Chris Evans plays, for Christ's sake. _

_She was nothing like Bella. _

_Nobody is. _

"_I'm not going home with you."_

_June sighed heavily. "Should have known." She grabbed her purse. "For a second there, I almost forgot about the priest thing."_

_It had nothing to do with being a priest. It had everything to do with being in love with another woman._

"_I'm..."_ _I didn't finish. I wasn't sorry. I swallowed down the rest of my drink anyway._

xXxXx

"Nothing else to tell, really," I say to Emmett. "I told her I wasn't interested. She left after that."

"I hate to tell you this, dude. But you were definitely on a date." Emmett pops the last bite of his burger into his mouth.

I nod and pick at my fries. I get that people expect me to move on. I get that it probably makes sense, on some level. It didn't feel right last night. It still doesn't today. It may never feel right.

"You okay?" Emmett's mood turns more concerned.

"I mean… yeah? I guess. It was just-"

"Weird."

"Very."

"I get it," he says. "When Rosie and I were dating, I couldn't even imagine being with anyone else."

Lucky for him, he didn't have to. "Yeah."

He checks the time and sighs. He looks like he's regretting how short lived our lunch was. I am too. "I gotta go, dude. I'm sorry," he says as he finishes off his shake.

"No worries." I check the time too. It never seems to slow down these days. "I'm meeting Alice anyway. I'll call you later this week."

"Cool." He gives me a cautious look. "Listen, Ed. If it's supposed to happen, it'll happen."

"Right," I say, even though I don't believe it.

"Oh, shit. Speaking of which... here."

He pulls out an envelope from his shirt pocket and hands it to me.

"Emmett, what the-"

"Don't open it now, just… wait 'til later." He grins like he's got a secret. "After dinner maybe. Or… five o'clock. Whichever."

He's being weird. "Okay." I'm suspicious, but I promise him I won't look as we stand and I grab my bag.

He gives me an Emmett McCarty bear hug. "See ya soon, 'kay?"

"Um. Yeah. Absolutely." I take Patrick's little hand and give it a small shake. "Bye, buddy. Be good to your mom."

I hold the door open for Emmett and watch him as he pushes Patrick down the sidewalk, singing really bad vocals to _I'm a Bee_.

I shove the envelope he gave me into my jeans pocket and take a moment to thank God again for the people he's placed in my life. Then I follow my path to the subway to try and beat Alice back to my apartment.

* * *

**A/N: Writing about pre-covid summer in NYC brought tears to my eyes. Stay safe out there, people.**

**As always, we've been silently thanking the Big Guy for SueBee BetaFairy Ostrich-Ho (she said I could call her that), ChrisAnn, and Kate.**

**Looking for a new WIP? Have you tried Cinnamon Girl by IsisIvy? It's only 4 chapters in, but it's got the makings of a great, beachy summertime fic. **

**We'll (hopefully) see you later this week for Part II. **


	45. Chapter 42 The Good Way, Part II

**Chapter 42. The Good Way, Part II **

**Bella **

Alec and I stand outside my three-story brownstone in Park Slope.

He whistles as he cranes his neck. "Not too shabby."

Twelve steps lead up, up, up to a set of tall double doors. The landing is bare, but in my head I see planters full of leafy vines and flowers. Maybe I'll get a little table and a set of chairs for the flagstone patio off to the side of the steps. I could sip some tea and watch the world go by.

"It's fuckin' perfect," I whisper.

A couple walks past us pushing what's sure to be a thousand dollar baby stroller, each holding a cup of artisanal coffee. They've got a golden retriever on a leash.

Alec raises his eyebrows. "Neighborhood seems a little tame for you."

I hold the front gate open and step aside for him to walk through. "Yeah, you know me these days, slamming back cups of _herbal tea_ 'til the sun comes up, and getting high at all hours… on _writing_. You want to see the future home of Swan studios, or just see the home of Swan?"

There's a separate entrance just underneath the front steps that leads to a vast, unfinished basement. A two hundred year old stone foundation will make for perfect insulation. L.A. can fuck itself. I'm about to have everything I need to record another album right at my fingertips.

Before Alec can make a decision, my littlest sister throws the front door open and peeks her head out. "You're back! How'd it go?"

"Ugh," I groan as I make my way up the steps.

"She was amazing as always." Alec playfully punches my shoulder. I look at him funny. That's my move. "What?" he asks. "You want me to tell the truth? Tell her how you can't take a compliment?"

I roll my eyes and punch his shoulder right back, a little harder than necessary.

Alice giggles. "That wouldn't exactly be breaking news."

I don't give a shit what they're going on about. I'm home. I toss my purse into the corner and bask in the sunlight streaming through the large front windows. Except for a dining room table and chairs I convinced the last owners to leave behind, the place is empty - just plaster walls and hardwood floors. My stuff from L.A.'s not set to arrive for a week. Even then, it'll hardly fill one corner of the room we're standing in

"One of the guys was a real sleaze," I tell Alice as I lean my guitar up against the wall and kick off my Converse.

"Sam Uley was fine," Alec counters.

"_Fine_? Really? This guy was practically undressing me with his eyes." I groan at the memory as I head into the kitchen. "Want a drink? I have water." I take a quick look in the refrigerator. "And water."

My manager seems reverent as he walks around the place - running a hand over the wooden built-in bookshelves, peering at the marble hearth over the fireplace, sliding open a pocket door leading into the dining room. _Almost_ reverent, anyway. I've seen real reverence. I know the difference.

"Sam invited her to the beach," Alec explains to my sister. "Just some harmless flirting and she takes it like he tried anal on air or something."

Alice's face damn near turns purple.

"Oh my God, he didn't _actually_ try." Alec rolls his eyes.

"Is that the bar you set for your clients?" I ask. "You'll only step in when there's attempted butt play?"

"Listen, B, I'm just saying -"

"No, you listen, _Alec_. I get it. The girls are out there. Guys are gonna notice them on the daily. But seriously, he's gotta be professional. Another interviewer leers at my tits on air, I'm calling him out. And I'm not doing it with a smile on my face."

"Fine, fine." He holds up his hands in surrender. "Noted. Sorry. Just thought you should have some fun."

"Do you really want me having fun with Sam Uley?" I lean against the counter, cross my arms over my chest, and wait.

Alec's face blanches and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. He looks a little sweaty all over again despite the air conditioning. "Now that you mention it, no. I just want you to be happy."

"Being back in Brooklyn makes me happy."

"I know, which is why we're here. It's why I rode the subway, for fuck's sake. But ever since the last time you were home you've been… _different._ I like the confidence, I fucking love your work ethic, your reliability. But underneath it all, something's missing. I thought maybe it was a guy?"

I do my best to keep up my front - keep my arms folded, keep my hip cocked. All the same, I blink back tears.

"What happened the last time you were here?" He takes a step toward me but stops when I lift my chin in challenge.

Alice clears her throat and Alec and I both startle. She narrows her eyes, sizing up the situation.

Alec glances between me and my sister like he's trying to break some kind of code. I've caught him giving me the same look over the past year when an offhand comment about frozen pizza would send me into a tailspin. This is the first time he's actually come out and asked though. The thing is, I'm not going there today. It would end in tears when today is supposed to be a celebration. A homecoming.

I ignore the ache in my chest and stick my tongue out at Alec. I hand the extra bottle of water to Alice instead.

Everything's fine. Casual references to _him_ can't break me.

"The bed come?" I ask Alice, changing the subject from what I have or haven't told my manager.

She cringes. "Yes and no?"

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's possible."

My guilty conscience gets the best of me and I toss another bottle of water Alec's way as compensation for riding the subway. He uses it to cool his forehead before taking a long swig.

"They had the bedframe about halfway put together before they realized it was all wrong," Alice explains. "They'll be back next week. They left you the mattress, though."

I sigh. "It's better than nothing."

"It's pretty close to nothing. I mean, do you even have sheets? A pillow?"

A missing bed frame and a bare mattress shouldn't make me feel empty inside. I can fill the void. "Details, shmetails. I'll run over to Target before I head to Rose and Em's."

"Target?" Alec is aghast. "You need to hire someone to teach you how to be a rock star." He pulls out his phone like he's got a rock star teacher on speed dial.

"Um, yeah. You want to check out my big backyard or my roof deck?"

Alec puts his phone away and shuts up. It was an easy win, but unsatisfying.

I glance at the updated kitchen with its professional grade appliances. It's perfect for making Sunday dinners for the whole family… with _him_. The backyard is big enough… for us both to play tag with Rose's kids. I can cover my stupid mattress with pillows of all sizes, but it's still going to feel empty.

_Christ. _

No matter how many Brooklyn bars I perform in, how many houses I buy, how many arguments I win, it feels incomplete without _him_.

_Hey God, help me hold onto this faith. Thanks, Bella._

"I should actually check into my hotel and shower after that subway ride," Alec says. He startles me from my prayer by tossing his empty water bottle my way. "You're taking a car later, Bella." He points an accusing finger in my direction. "I don't want any lip. Fucking mass transit," he huffs.

xXxXx

Once Alec's gone, Alice exhales like she's been holding her breath since I got home. "So, have you started looking for a new manager yet?"

"What? _Alec_? I mean he's a little uptight about taking the D train, a little too forgiving when it comes to creepy D.J.'s, but he's good people."

I start looking through cabinets, searching for the protein bars I stashed in the kitchen yesterday.

"You _like _him?"

"I can trust him with anything."

"Yeah, but ever think…"

When I glance back at Alice, she's rocking on her heels like she's waiting for something. "Think what?"

"Oh, come on, Bella. That guy clearly cares about you."

"Alec? Of course he does. He's my manager... _Yes_!" I hiss when I find my stash in one of the drawers. Since there are no stools at the kitchen island yet, I hop up on the counter and rip open the package.

Alice lifts herself onto the counter next to me. "It's nothing more?"

"Like more _how_?"

She shakes her head. "You can't be this dense."

I sigh. "I'm not. And no. Alec's just Alec. I'm just me."

"Why, though?"

"Because I still…" I have to stop speaking when the ache in my chest explodes like a detonated bomb.

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think. It hurts to look my little sister in the eye. I clutch the counter for support and peer out the back window. Leaves from a little maple tree dance in the breeze.

_Because I still love him._

His love is the reason my life is damned near perfect. And my love is the reason this perfect life will never feel right.

"I just want a yes or no on this one," I say quietly, instead of finishing my thought.

"This one? What are you talking about?"

"Just promise me you'll only answer with yes or no. _Please_?"

Alice slides closer to me on the countertop. "I think that would require you to actually ask a yes or no question."

"You've turned into a real smart ass, you know?" I try to sound light and breezy, but my voice cracks just the same.

"Just ask." She gingerly leans her head on my shoulder. "It's okay, Bella."

I pull my knees up to my chin and wrap my arms around my legs. I take a deep breath. "Is _he _okay?"

Alice clutches my knee. "Now that you're home you should -"

"Yes or no," I rasp.

"Yes, but -"

I gasp. "Yes?"

Time stops or my heart stops. Maybe both.

"Yes. You idiot. He's really good. He's -"

"Thank God. That's good… _Really_ good."

Relief washes over me as late afternoon light filters through shimmering green leaves. Patches of sunshine and shadow merge on the kitchen floor.

It wasn't all for nothing.

He's really good.

"For the love of God, say his name, Bella. Just say it. You can do it. Ed-ward."

"Edward," I whisper. A tear rolls down my face. "_Edward_'s okay? _Really_ okay?"

"Yes, and he's -"

"Thanks, Alice," I say a little too loud. I slide off the counter and pull up Grubhub on my phone. "You want to order some lunch? Do some online shopping so I can fill this place? I've already got a list started. Alec and I went room by room on the plane, but now that we're here…"

My voice trails off when I catch Alice staring at me like I'm speaking Latin. Actually, she probably knows Latin. She looks at me like I'm speaking… _Finnish_. She throws her hands in the air. "Really, Bella?"

"Yeah, really. I'm starving. And this place is empty as fuck."

My sister hops down from the counter, plucks the phone from my hands and slides it into her back pocket.

"Hey!" I protest.

I try to reach around her for my cell, but she takes me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye. "Why won't you talk about him?"

I shrug out of Alice's grasp, turn my back on her, and look out the back window instead. There's a raised bed off to the side of the yard where I could grow tomatoes and basil like Grandma used to. I'll get the family marinara recipe from Mom. I can almost smell it simmering on the stove.

None of this should make me cry. I wipe at my eyes, feeling ungrateful and embarrassed, missing him all over again.

"Some decisions are really hard to live with, you know?" I try to explain. "It's easier if I just keep it to myself."

I know why I won't talk about him. I'm afraid of how much it will hurt. And I'm afraid if I start it will lead to contacting him. It will lead to messing with his life all over again. I definitely can't. Not when I know he's really good, like Alice says he is. Now, more than ever, it's important for me to stay out of his way. Some things aren't about me.

Alice joins me at the back window. She looks me up and down. "It doesn't look like you're having an easy time."

My forehead falls against cool glass. "I'm working on it. I just have to figure out how to get over him."

"Do you _want_ to get over him?"

"I wish I didn't feel this way whenever his name comes up. I wish…" I think back to the family Alice and I saw at the cottage the last time I was home. The stuff I wish is absurd.

"I want you to have everything, Bella. I really do."

It's almost like she can read my thoughts.

She rests her hand on my shoulder and I lean against my sister. I let her support me as we both look out the window.

"You deserve it," she says quietly. "You know that, right?"

I shake my head, wordless.

"Do me a favor?" she asks.

I laugh a little. "New car? A ticket to the Grammy's?"

"Let yourself imagine it."

"But -"

"Just for tonight. Imagine what it would be like if you could have it all."

Those dreams are always at the corners of my consciousness. Paper thin walls hold them at bay. It would be so easy to let them in.

The alarm on Alice's phone sounds. "Listen, I've gotta go meet a friend to study. But we should talk about this… about _Edward_ again tomorrow."

"Alice, I don't think -"

"After church?" She hands me back my phone and slings her purse over her shoulder. "Order some lunch, online shopping, and Edward?"

She says it almost like she's going to bring him here from Italy. I'm equal parts despondent and irrationally hopeful. We watch one another for a moment. I blink back tears but force a smile on my face like I did for the interview.

"Fine," I huff.

Alice beams. "Yes!" She throws her arms around me.

"See you at church?" she asks on her way out the door. Her eyes twinkle. She looks practically giddy. She's always been kinda over the top when it comes to religion. Some things never change.

"See you then," I tell her.

**xXxXxXxXx**

_**Edward **_

I don't have much time before Alice is supposed to be here. It doesn't help that a certain feline continues to get tangled up in my feet as I try to clean up. Adopting a cat wasn't something I would have thought of on my own. It was Emmett's suggestion. He said I needed some pussy in my life. I took it the wrong way, and here we are.

His name is Piccolini Cuscino. The name was Alice's idea - a throwback to my trip to Italy. I just call him Picco.

"I see you. I hear you. I will get you your food in two seconds," I tell the kitten as I put the vacuum away.

He swipes a paw at me, so I get him something to eat before he starts attacking my ankles.

This cat runs the apartment. Not that it's a lot to run, my place is small. It isn't _exactly _like the rectory, but with the bare walls and basic furniture, it tends to feel like it. In some weird way, keeping it like this reminds me of Bella.

_Speaking of which_, I open up my laptop and search for FUV's most recent interview. I'm not a big fan of Sam and Embry's show, but I'm willing to give them some traffic if it means I can listen to Bella's voice.

"_...Embry and I were talking earlier, and we both hear influences from musical visionaries like St. Vincent and Liz_ _Phair. Hell, I could even hear The Roches and, dare I say it, Janis Joplin?" _

"Oh, _no… _not Janis."

"_No_," she says. "_Don't you dare say it._"

I laugh along with her. For a second it feels like she's sitting across from me, eating Shake Shack leftovers, ready to give a sarcastic retort to some other ridiculous musical comparison.

I can just about see her smile.

_The _smile.

I think I could convince her she's better than Janis if I had the chance.

Sam asks Bella about the Hamptons and she puts him in his place by explaining how fucking awesome it is in the city during the summers.

Before I can stop myself, I'm in the comments. I'm not the first to post my opinions these days. Work and school take up most of my time, but I still leave my thoughts on each and every upload.

I type out a quick note about how city beaches are better than the Hamptons.

When Sam lets the whole world know he wants a _Bella Swan _summer in the city tour, it brings back memories of Ben Cheney and everything he put her through last summer. She doesn't deserve the innuendo. She deserves better. At least last summer I could be there for her. Now I'm helpless.

I remind myself she knows how to take care of herself.

A prayer can't hurt though.

_Strengthen her through your Holy Spirit. Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, _"Amen."

Sam jokes about how Bella came back to the city for food, and she tells him she's here because of her family. I know the feeling. I came back for them too.

I'm about to throw caution to the wind and add another comment saying as much when there's a knock at the door.

I pause the interview. There's no sense making things awkward for Alice.

xXxXx

"What are the research methods used in developmental psychology?

_Easy_. "The physical, social, emotional, cognitive, and behavioral aspects of development."

"Perfect! Um…" Alice scrolls down the page of my notes. "How does stress affect cognitive development?"

Shit. _Not quite as easy,_ but I've got this.

"Okay… cognitive deficits, learning difficulties, low self-esteem... memory gaps, repetitive outer child behaviors, heightened emotional sensitivity-"

"Resulting in?"

"Depression or anxiety in adulthood."

Alice beams. "You're gonna ace this exam, Father. I mean, Edward."

I chuckle a little. "I haven't been a priest for _months, _Alice." I know how she feels though. Sometimes I forget too.

She shrugs. "Sorry, old _habits_."

"Wow. That was a terrible _nun-_pun."

She giggles as she picks up the kitten and pretends to kiss him. "Hellooooo Mister Cuscino." She rubs noses with him and he sneezes then purrs. Because of course he does. It's Alice. "Do you know the seven common approaches to psychology?" she asks him. "I bet you do, don't you?"

"He doesn't even know his name, Alice."

"We always wanted a kitten when we were kids. Did I ever tell you about the time B-"

I tense up and she stops herself. Then I feel guilty for being the reason she has to. "Go ahead, Alice. It's okay."

"Yeah?" she asks.

I give her a nod.

She looks… hopeful. And also a little amused. "Well, Bella was sure Mom and Dad couldn't say no if we _already_ had a cat. And there was this scary alley cat who lived out back behind Nazareth High. It had one eye, one ear, three legs, and lots of teeth. She named him Fury."

I lean back in my chair and wonder. "Like Nick Fury?"

"I don't know who that is, Edward. I just know that when she unleashed him in the house, he was definitely furious. Tore up Mom's couch, got into her biscotti, tried to kill my favorite stuffed animal, and trapped me and Angela in our room for hours. We actually had to call animal control."

A surge of laughter hits me hard and before we know it, both Alice and I are doubled over.

I wipe tears from my eyes. "I can only imagine Renee's reaction."

"She sent Bella to confession as soon as Fury was gone and it was safe to leave the bedroom. Mom _really _lost it when Bella came home from St. Mary's with a note from Father Volturi though."

"A note? Here I thought I was the only unorthodox priest at St. Mary's."

Alice smirks.

"It had nothing to do with Father Volturi. _Bella_ was the unorthodox one. The note said someone needed to teach Bella how confession was supposed to work. That confession meant you were sorry. She wasn't. We needed a cat and Fury needed a home. Mom said she was grounded until she admitted she was wrong. I think she stayed in her room that entire summer."

I finally have an idea where Bella learned to be sorry for everything.

"I'm sure Renee meant well," I say, a little more somber than a moment ago.

"Yeah, _Mom_… Anyway, do we need to go over study tactics?" Alice asks, almost like she's dying to change the subject. "Remember your mnemonics, _get enough sleep_ the night before-"

"Eat a healthy breakfast… yeah, yeah."

"Do _not _question the method." She shoves me in the chest.

I rub where she pushed me. "Careful there, Ronda Rousey."

Alice's hands fly to her mouth. "Oh my God, I totally forgot. Is it healing up okay? Can I see it yet?"

"Healed but still a little sore when small people punch me. And no, you cannot," I tell her with as much mock admonishment as I can muster. I know it makes her crazy and it's stupid, but I'm not ready to share the new tatt with anyone just yet.

After plenty of internal debate, I decided not to get rid of my vows. I didn't want to erase what they represented. Instead, I had the artist fade them out a little and intertwine the new with the old. The new is a little bigger and bolder, and it holds a much more prominent place over my heart. The vows are still there, a reminder of what they taught me, who they brought me to, and how much she still means to me.

"Not fair," Alice whines. I can tell she's had practice as a little sister.

Her phone vibrates and she pulls it out to check it. I try to give her some privacy. It's probably Jane.

It feels like we've been at this for hours. Alice is a beast when it comes to studying. We're birds of a feather like that. I just wish extra studying would get me to the finish line quicker. This degree is essential for my future.

I'm excited. I'm on the path I know I'm meant to be on, but the anticipation of getting it done is stressful.

_Give me patience, Lord. And the strength to make it happen._

I grab a couple of waters. When I offer one to Alice, she gives me her famous side eye.

"Something wrong?"

She types into her phone like a mad woman. "Nope."

It doesn't look like a nope. "You sure?"

Alice puts her phone down and studies me. "You really figured it out, didn't you?"

"Hmm?"

"What's important?"

A familiar ache builds inside my chest. "It's like you said, Alice. I always knew."

She bounces her foot under the table like she's nervous. "Ever wonder if she figured it out too?"

Of course I've wondered, an endless number of times. I've wondered if Rose was right when she said Bella felt the same, if Charlie was right about her being happier than he'd seen her in years. I've wondered if she's thought about me, if she's missed me, if she feels alone like I do when she lays in bed at night. I've wondered if figuring out what's important to me means I don't have to keep my promise anymore.

My resolve cracks a little more every day I'm away from her. Now that she's home, some days it's all I can do to hold myself together. Her family is comforting, but they're also a constant reminder of the hole she left in my heart.

Something only she can fix.

"Wondered. Hoped. Prayed. But I think she already had it figured out. Isn't that why she left?"

"Your guess is as good as mine since neither of you talk about it. _At all."_

The frustration in Alice's voice is almost like God telling me it's time for another confession.

"I guess I figured if I didn't talk about it, I could hold onto her for a little while longer."

Alice's eyes brighten. "But you think about her?"

"All the fucking time." Admitting it out loud is like lifting a weight. It hurts, but it's a good kind of pain.

"She thinks about you too."

This catches me by surprise. Talking about Bella is one thing. Hearing that maybe she's talked about me is another.

I can't breathe.

"She…" Christ. I can't think. I can't swallow, for that matter. This is the first time I've discussed her with anyone besides God since I left for Italy. It feels wrong but very right at the same time.

"Did she tell you that?"

"She did. Like an hour ago."

_Breathe._

"She misses you."

I can't quite form words yet, but Alice seems to know what I'm wondering.

"She hasn't exactly said it. Not in so many words. But you two are kind of obvious."

We always were, I guess. Maybe we still are.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do with this information, Alice. Bella was pretty clear about what she wanted."

"Maybe what you needed then and what you need now are different. Maybe you can't keep hanging on Bella's instructions, you know? What about _Him_?" She peeks up at the ceiling.

Christ. She's right.

What about my _own _advice? What about that last homily I gave before Bella left me? About paths and guidance and letting God show me the way.

Sure, Bella was right back then. She was right to tell me to go figure my shit out. Now that I have, where does that leave me? Where does it leave us?

"Are you telling me I should go back on my word?"

"I'm going to tell you the same damn thing I told her." Alice catches herself raising her voice and takes a deep breath. She puts a hand over mine. "Let yourself imagine what could happen if you did. Stop putting up silly walls."

"I'd-" My eyes catch the time on the microwave. "Shit. I have less than twenty minutes to get to work."

Alice squeezes my hand, then starts to pack up her books. "You need to slow down. You're gonna burn yourself out. Some people think it's cliché, but we all need a night out every now and then."

"Can't," I tell her while I stack my things. "And I already tried the night out, Alice. Major fail." I shiver and push memories of last night out of my head. "Besides, the sooner I get this degree, the sooner I can be more than a staffer over at Ascension House."

Alice sighs. "I really miss you at Mass, but you're gonna make an even better counselor than you were a priest. And you look…" Alice pauses to look me over. "Happy."

"I am, Alice." _For the most part_. "Thank you, by the way."

"Me?" She looks genuinely surprised. "For what?"

"You've been a good friend. You were hard-core honest with me when I tried to wallow in self pity once. You did it again today."

She ducks her head then throws her arms around my neck.

"I'm just glad you didn't stay over in Europe for the rest of your life."

"Never would have happened."

As the door closes behind Alice, I do what she suggested. I let myself imagine Bella here, in the living room, waiting for me on the couch after her sister leaves. Maybe she's playing her guitar, or writing a new song. Maybe she's playing with the kitten, or trying to convince me to take in another one in. One named Fury.

I'd say yes, by the way. After a little bit of convincing.

I imagine taking a seat next to her, watching her for a few moments before pushing some hair away from her neck and kissing her there, wrapping my arms around her. Taking off her clothes. Taking off mine. Spending days on end, naked, practicing… perfecting.

I see us drinking together without apologizing first. I see us telling each other everything without having to ask anything. Telling her I love her, and hearing her say it back.

I imagine a full life with her. And I fucking want it.

I want all of it.

Then I let myself imagine something else.

I imagine she wants it too.

**xXxXxXxXx**

**Bella **

I'm jumpy as I ride the B train to my old 'hood. It has nothing to do with the subway. I've been riding the train my whole life. I'm not too worried about being recognized. After all, I'm still not Fergie famous. Or Janis, for fuck's sake. I can handle a selfie or two.

My nerves are all Alice's fault.

I haven't stopped thinking about Edward since she left my place. It's taken a ridiculous amount of energy to avoid thoughts of _Edward_. So giving in was easy. For the first time in almost a year, I just let my imagination go.

When I was in Target, I thought about which sheets I'd like for our bed. Which pillows I'd like _Edward _to slide underneath my hips while he got down and dirty with First Corinthians. Which towels I'd like to see wrapped around _Edward_'s waist. Which towels I'd like him to pull off me.

I took a quick break after making the bed to really think things over. It was the kind of thinking that happens with a hand down your pants and a bible verse on your lips.

On my walk to the train, I saw the coffee shop where _Edward_ and I would read the paper on lazy Sunday mornings, the little cafe where we'd share a glass of wine and play rounds of ask me anything, the park where we'd take... our kid.

Yeah, in my dreams, I was willing to sacrifice my nipples. In my dreams, _Edward _and I eventually have a little girl with big hazel eyes. She wears a Captain Marvel costume as she toddles through the tot lot, but _Edward _loves her just the same.

Here on the train I remember our ride into Manhattan like it was yesterday - all the awkwardness and sexual tension - and I imagine doing it all over again. We could go see Emily the next time she's at Bowery. This time we'd kiss as we watched from the balcony. Backstage I'd tell Emily he's taken all over again - this time because he's mine. We'd get a little carried away and she'd make fun and tell us to get a room.

I gasp as I realize I just made that room. Our bed's all ready. There's only one thing missing. One person. One priest.

"_Edward_," I sigh.

I find myself glancing at the doors of the train with every stop, like I half expect to see him walk on in. Of course, it's not going to happen. Edward's about four thousand miles away in Italy.

I may not ask anyone in my family about Edward, but I cheat every now and then.

It's not easy. The man keeps a hella low profile online. He's not on Insta. He doesn't have a Facebook account. I know because I've snooped through every single contact of every single member of my family.

The Diocese of Queens and Brooklyn has a website, though. I found a post in their archives from last September thanking 'Beloved Father Edward' for his service and wishing him well abroad. About four months ago I found another post on their website about Bishop Whitlock's visit to Rome, including a picture of the bishop and Edward as they stand outside the Vatican. Both of them are wearing collars, of course. Because they're both priests.

I pull out my phone and pull up the pic. I keep the tab open on my browser. I've also saved the pic to my photos.

It looks like Alice is right. He looks really good. He looks happy. He seems more relaxed than I remember ever seeing him. A little more tan. So fucking hot.

I run a thumb over the picture of his face, then close my eyes. I start from the beginning. In my head I sit down in his dark, dank box and ask for forgiveness. I try to remember the way he sounded when he chuckled, but I'm not sure I'm remembering it right. I only know how it made me feel - like I wasn't alone.

My phone buzzes in my hands and I jump a little. It's Alec.

**I take it back. Deny Janis all you want. Check out these comments. They. Are. Everything.**

He follows the text with a link to my interview on FUV's website. There are already hundreds of comments. People argue back and forth about how I'm either the second coming of Janis Joplin or nothing like her at all.

All except one person seem to have strong opinions one way or the other. Over the past year, I've noticed TeamStark001 commenting a lot. He's one of a handful of Avengers fans who follow me. Today, TeamStark001 doesn't have an opinion about whether or not I sound like Janis Joplin.

TeamStark001 likes city beaches better than the Hamptons.

My chest tingles. I flip back to the picture of Edward and Jasper. My mind's probably playing tricks on me with all the daydreaming Alice has me doing. He's priesting out in Rome. Of course, priests do have WiFi - Edward made that clear. Romans have Internet access too.

I decide to take Alice's advice again. I imagine Edward following my career online - finding his path without completely letting me go. I stare at TeamStark001's name and I go a step further. I hope it's him. I'm just about to play the interview all over again to hear what Edward might have when the conductor announces my stop.

I sling my guitar over my shoulder as I step off the train and notice a familiar pair of broad shoulders about two cars ahead of me on the platform. The baby stroller the big guy's pushing leaves no doubt who it is.

"Emmett! Eddie!" I dodge past people as my brother in-law scans the crowd. When he spots me, a huge grin lights up his face.

"Shit! Bella! How the hell are you?" He picks me up and spins me around. People scowl as they duck out of the way and walk around us.

"I'm good now," I tell him. "It's so fuckin' good to be home." I kneel down in front of Little Eddie.

"Ba!" he tells me. "Ba! Ba!" He kicks his chubby legs and pulls at the latch holding him in place.

"You are _so_ big. You almost look like a real person."

"Ba! Ba!" He reaches his hands out to me. He's wearing the Converse I sent him a few weeks ago. They're the right size.

I can't hold myself back and immediately start unbuckling my godson from the stroller

"Yo, hold on tight," Emmett warns. "Put him down for a second and he's gonna take right off and end up playing with rats on the third rail or something."

Eddie's fucking heavy and squirms in my arms as we walk down the stairs to street level. This might not have been the brightest idea in the world.

"You're a runner?" I ask him. Eddie's eyes go wide. After changing color a few times since he was born, they've settled to a pale shade of gray-green. It's a nice color for eyes.

My godson grabs the chain around my neck, then something else catches his attention. Two something elses, to be exact. The kid's hands go right for the girls and he holds on tight. It's not the first time someone's tried to cop a feel on this stretch of road, but he's definitely the youngest guy to try it.

"Where were you two coming from?" I ask my brother-in-law as I tangle with a pint-sized groper.

Em suddenly looks very interested in his phone.

"Oh, you know. Visiting. Friends. Lunch. That kind of thing," he says as he taps out a quick text.

His brow furrows. His thumbs move quicker. He sighs in frustration.

"That Rose?" I ask.

He looks up at me, surprised. "What? No. That was…"

I eye him suspiciously.

"Nobody," he finally says.

"Nobody?"

"Yeah, you know… Nobody."

"Ooh-kay." I laugh. If he wasn't toting Eddie around, I'd almost think he was having an affair. "You seem kind of... _off_."

"I'm just rushing. Trying to book it home so we wouldn't miss you."

Which is weird. "I'm gonna see you tonight one way or another."

Rose and Emmett have tickets for tonight's gig. Tuesday, Alice and Jane will see me at the next bar on the tour. Angie's got a date for next Thursday's show. Mom and Dad are going to see me on Friday.

Emmett sighs. "Yeah, about that…"

I stop in my tracks. "Emmett McCarty! You are not skipping my opening night. I know you're not saying-"

"No, no, no. It's just... I mean, I was hoping to do something big for Rosie tonight. You know? Lately we haven't been seeing eye to eye on _things_."

"Oh." I had no idea.

"How would you feel about that?"

"About you and Rose arguing? It sucks. You two are like the perfect couple."

"No, dude. About romantic gestures. _Very big _romantic gestures."

As far as I know, all of Emmett's romantic gestures involve karaoke. "I'm not doing an _Islands in the Stream_ duet with you, Emmett. Sorry. No dice."

"I was thinking bigger than that, sis. Like" -he holds his hands out from each other as far as they'll reach- "_Lost in Love_ big."

Emmett stares down at me with such hope. He looks like he's holding his breath. I get it. I can only imagine how much he must be hurting, but there's got to be another way for him to smooth things over with my big sister.

"I love you both, Em, but I don't think I can sing that song. You've got to understand."

Emmett takes a deep breath. He looks determined.

"You wouldn't get, I don't know, tripped up tonight if _I _did something like that. Would you?"

"I have literally no idea what you're asking me. Are you planning on singing _Lost in Love_?" That would be… _something_.

Emmett seems to reconsider what he's asking. "Let me put this another way. On a scale of one to ten, how focused are you up there on stage?"

"On a scale of one to ten, how focused are you when you rescue someone from a burning building?"

He nods his head, impressed. "Nice. Gotcha. Very focused. Alice doesn't know what she's talking about."

"I still don't know what the fuck _you're_ talking about, you weirdo." This fight with Rose must have him really messed up. "But I'll do what I can. As long as it doesn't involve you singing, or _that_ song."

Eddie wriggles in my arms and I lower him to the ground and clutch his hand. He takes a few unsteady steps, then plops down on the sidewalk and pouts.

"Come on, little fella," Em says as he plucks Eddie up and buckles him back into the stroller against his will.

He looks beyond worried as he peeks over at me. "You know we want you to be happy, right?"

"As opposed to me being unhappy?" I laugh, but Emmett seems very serious. He rolls the stroller into my path, blocking the sidewalk, and forcing me to stop again.

"We've all got your best interests at heart, Bella. We're behind you one hundred percent."

"Emmett, are you dying. Is Rose dying? Am _I _dying?"

"Check back with me tomorrow?" he asks with a nervous laugh, then swings the stroller around so we can walk again.

Silence weighs on me and Emmett as we leave the main road and head toward their house. My brother-in-law keeps sneaking looks at me out of the corner of his eye. He opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it and takes a long swig from Eddie's sippy cup instead.

"Is this some kind of set-up? Is there a reality TV crew from TLC in your living room?"

"No cameras. But I should warn you, Liam made you a fish cake and frosted it with tartar sauce."

Emmett and I both make a face. As we walk up the path to the house, we can already hear kids shouting. Something inside crashes and I'm actually excited to dive into the chaos.

"Avengers assemble!" a little kid screams at the top of his lungs. I walk a little faster. It's been too fucking long.

"You ready for this insanity?" Emmett asks.

"I've been waiting for it since the day I left."

**xXxXxXxXx**

_**Edward **_

Ascension House has only been around for about five years. Riley, the guy who runs it, is still pretty young himself. He used to be Catholic until he decided he couldn't take the stringent rules trickling down from the Pope. He founded Ascension House as the one and only Protestant run boys home in the area since the 1800s.

The guy's made me feel like I'm part of a family here. He has my back and he trusts me, especially when it comes to dealing with the kids.

I was worried when I first came back from Italy. I thought people wouldn't want to hire an ex-priest. I'm pretty sure Riley hired me specifically because of that fact.

"Am not." I notice Tyler, a newer resident, looks particularly frustrated tonight as I walk in the front door.

I toss my bag down onto the stairs and keep an eye on him as he argues with Danny, a boy a few years younger than him. He's been here long enough to know better than to antagonize someone who's got anger issues.

"Are too," Danny replies with just enough attitude to make Tyler's face turn red.

_Uh oh_.

"Am NOT!" Tyler shouts.

"Are…. _tooo_," Danny practically sings like he's _trying _to get his ass kicked.

I head down the hallway toward them.

Danny rolls his eyes like he's a badass. Since he hasn't quite learned the art of walking away, it's not exactly working for him.

"Am... _not_," Tyler insists. His jaw clenches. He balls his hands into fists.

"Such a fucking idiot," Danny mumbles. He's usually much more intelligent than this.

_Christ_. Now, I run.

"Yeah?" Tyler gives him a warning punch on the arm. I can tell it hurt by the shock and awe on Danny's face.

"Ow, jackass." Danny pushes Tyler hard. I grab Tyler by the collar just before he can take a swing at Danny's face.

"What the fuck is happening here?"

Danny waves an arm at nothing. "He's constantly coming in after hours, Edward. Then he's up another two texting some girl. I get _no sleep._ I have classes first thing in the morning. I can't be up all hours because this dumbass wants to get laid."

"Fuck you," Tyler spews. "You're just jealous 'cause no one's popped your tiny little cherry yet."

Danny takes a step toward him.

I make them stand against the walls opposite each other.

"_And_ he stole my earbuds again."

"Maybe they're just lost, like your tiny little-"

"Ohhh-kay, guys." I give Danny a warning look, one he knows by now. "Take a walk. Clear your head. We'll find your earbuds later."

"But-"

"Maybe you'd rather I send you over to Glenn for some push-ups?"

Danny holds his hands up and practically stomps away. Works every time with him. He hates physical activity.

Once he's gone, I turn to Tyler. "You can't keep hitting people."

"Kid's a fuckin' know-it-all."

"Yeah." I breathe out a sigh and lean up against the wall. I could use a smoke. "Well, regardless..."

He waits a beat as he stares down the hallway at nothing.

"Something up?" I ask him.

"I'm not a dumbass."

"I agree."

"I just really like this girl and Danny keeps getting in my way."

"Okay."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Probably. Does she like you back?"

He shrugs. Smirks.

"_Definitely_ in trouble."

Tyler finally lets himself relax. He damn near laughs, which is a lot for him.

_Finally. _An open door.

I glance upward.

_Thanks. _

"I have some experience with that," I tell him.

"Girls?"

"Trouble," I say. He laughs again. So do I before admitting, "And girls."

Two girls. It qualifies.

"Dude, you don't even know. Lany is the _GOAT_. She's got me all shook. And she's so _snatched_, man. No _way _she's anything like whoever you're talking about."

No, I can't imagine she is. Mainly because I have no idea what he just said.

I point to the kitchen. "Go help with dinner. I'll come find you after and we can talk if you want." Right after I Google every word he used.

Tyler nods and heads down the hall. He takes his time. He hates cooking. It's cool. Life lessons and all.

This is what I love about this job. Not the kids getting into it, but making a difference in their lives. They get into it because it's all they know. It's all I knew when I was their age. I get it.

Every day, I'm reminded I'm where I'm supposed to be - working at a place like this, for a guy like Riley, who gives kids a chance to make something better of themselves. And what the job lacks in pay, it makes up for in challenges.

Like de-escalating fights between a couple of stubborn teenagers.

Before checking in with Riley, I take a quiet moment to thank God for his hand in my life. For placing me here. For the satisfaction it brings me.

When I was young, I needed some guidance. I can't deny the fact that the church helped me. I learned a lot about God and what He means to me. That led me to the priesthood. To St. Mary's.

To Bella. Who, ultimately, led me to where I am today.

Ex-priest, student, mentor, and die hard Marvel comic book geek.

I didn't choose these things _instead _of God. I'm all of them _because _of Him. Alongside Him.

My life has come full circle. My tower's being built, brick by brick, class by class. Shift by shift.

The only thing that's still missing is its heart.

Riley peeks out from his office. "Edward, you staying late again tonight? Trish called in sick."

He looks desperate.

Fuck. I'm tired. But when has that ever stopped me before?

I shove my hands into my pockets, ready to commit myself, when I feel the envelope Emmett gave me earlier.

I stare at it for a hot second and check the time. It's well past five, so I open it up and find a note.

_It's been long enough. _

I can't imagine what the hell he's talking about. Not until I see what the note was wrapped around.

My heart pounds. My breathing shallows. I go slightly lightheaded when I see not one, but four really fucking good reasons why I won't be staying late tonight or the rest of the week.

Four extremely clear signs from God, once again, that I'm on the right path.

"I don't think so." I pull my cell out to snap a picture and text it to Marco.

"_Pleeeeease_?" Riley clasps his hands together like he's praying. He thinks that's the way to my heart, which, in some ways, it is. Only not this time. I've said way more prayers than he has about this.

"Can't," I tell him, unable to wipe the smile from my face, even if I wanted to. And I'm not sorry. Not even a little fucking bit.

"Come _onnnnn. _It's not like you have a life."

He's teasing. I forgive him.

"Tonight I do. I've got a thing."

"What-" then he sees what I'm holding. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not."

"How the _hell _did you score those? It sold out _weeks _ago."

"Luck I guess?" I tell him, even though I know it's much more than that.

It's Faith.

I slide the envelope back into my pocket. I thank God for the Swan family, giving me what I need, exactly when I need it.

I start counting down the minutes until my shift is over.

This time, when I let my imagination run wild, it's not about what might have happened. It's about what's going to happen.

I'm _going _to see her. I'm going to tell her I've missed her like crazy. And I'm going to let her know I don't want to spend another minute without her in my life.

And if I'm lucky, then I'm going to take her home.

* * *

**A/N: Blessings from these two atheists for your patience this past week. Life threw some stale biscotti at us but we're working hard to get these last chapters out. Next up date, as best we can say... will be here as soon as humanly possible. Prayers to Edward's pretend boss are appreciated.**

**OTHER STUFF: **_**THANKS**_** so much to Sue, Kate, & ChrisAnn this week for their help in getting this chapter ready and character appropriate. THANKS to the Dark, Dank Box discussions for Edward's **_**pu**_**... I mean kitten. And THANKS for reading, as always! **

**IF you didn't know already: LayAtHomeMom has a new fic out - **_**The Freshman**_**! Check it out and love on this lady. She's the best!**

**LASTLY: Thanks to **_**Author's 411**_**, we are holding our own version of ASK ME ANYTHING on 9/20 2pm EST. If you'd like more information about how to attend while helping out a fellow fandom member who contracted COVID19, go check out all the details in the FaceBook group **_**Author's 411. **_


	46. Chapter 43 Indulgence

**Chapter 43. Indulgence**

**Bella**

* * *

Liam laughs maniacally. "Then Black Widow kicks Thanos in the butt!"

"Wait, which one of your sisters is Black Widow?" I ask him.

"You are!" the girls yell at me.

"I am Gamora," the littlest says.

"And I'm Scarlet Witch. I'm going to pick Thanos up with my brain!"

I make a T with my hands, the universal sign for time out. "Listen, I told you I'm Captain Marvel _not _Widow."

Liam stomps his foot. "But Captain Marvel sucks."

"And we let you make Eddie Iron Man and he can't even walk!" my niece argues.

Eddie sways on his feet, takes a step, and crumbles to the grassy lawn. I'm thinking he might need a new Arc Reactor.

"And you made me the Hulk named Ed!" Liam stomps again. "It's not fair, Auntie Bella!"

I roll my eyes. All this arguing and we're losing Thanos - their new pet turtle. He's already past the swing set and is headed for the shed. "Fine, I'll be Widow," I huff.

"Yay!"

"Now, on the count of three!" I call. "One… two… three!"

My nieces, nephews, and I charge toward the swing set. We jump into the empty kiddie pool, scramble through the sandbox, and fall into a big heap in the corner of the yard near the garage. Thanos disappears underneath the shed. We've gone completely off script, but we're tickling and laughing as we roll around on the ground. Iron Man crawls as fast as he can in our direction. I have a niece on my belly, a toddler grabbing my tit, and a fishy-smelling hand in my face when someone clears their throat by the back door.

"I don't know how you manage her," Rose says.

"Fuck if I know," Alec replies with a chuckle.

I channel Captain fucking Marvel and throw the kids off me. I'm pretty sure I rise from the ground like I'm levitating. From the back porch, Emmett doubles over laughing, while Alec shakes his head with tears in his eyes. Rose jogs across the yard to catch Eddie before he crawls under the shed after Thanos.

"Want to pull yourself together?" Alec asks.

I push the hair from my face. I tug at my t-shirt and brush the grass from the knees of my jeans.

"What do you mean?"

He looks me over from head to toe. "Is this what you're going with?" To be fair, grass-stained jeans and a t-shirt are worlds apart from what I used to wear when I opened for Mike. That was back before I figured out how comfortable it felt to be myself.

"This is me. It's why I'm fuckin' here in the first place." I swing Liam into my arms as the little guy tries to charge past me. "No fish upstairs, young man," I warn.

Liam squirms out of my arms and heads straight for the refrigerator. It's not my problem. Hell, it's not even Rose and Emmett's. "Who's watching these guys tonight?" I ask Rose as I pluck Eddie from her arms.

"What do you mean?"

Emmett jabs his wife in the ribs and arches an eyebrow. "Angie's coming over, _right_?"

I narrow my eyes. "Angela and her infant daughter are going to babysit five kids under ten?"

Rose stares hard at her husband. "That would clearly be absurd."

"Hey, at least I remembered we'd need a sitter," he shoots back. "At least I'm trying."

Rose and Em stare at each other like they're having a silent conversation. It looks a little more charged than the ones I usually have with God.

Shit. They really are fighting. They better have someone to watch the kids or whatever romantic gesture Emmett has planned is out the window.

"You _do _have a sitter, right?" I ask.

"Don't worry about us," Rose says. Her smile is a little too sweet, a little too bright. I'm practically blinded by it. It's the 'Rose is perfect, so don't you dare question her' smile.

It works. Every fucking time.

Alec squares my shoulders and gives me a reassuring nod. "Leave it to me. If they need a sitter _I'll _find a sitter. You just concentrate on yourself right now."

"You know, you're gonna have to get used to me caring about my family."

Alec takes a deep breath. "I think I could get used to that."

I take a step back at the same time Rose clears her throat.

My manager's immediately back in business mode. He checks the time on his phone. "Family or not, you and I have places to be, crowds to slay. Ready?"

I'm about to follow Alec inside, but Rose holds me back with a hand on my shoulder. "Listen _Slayer,_ he's not the one for you."

In the kitchen, Alec accepts a frozen fish stick from Liam and gamely takes a bite. He shudders but smiles kindly at my nephew. When Liam's not looking, Emmett hands Alec a napkin and he spits it out and quickly dumps it into the trash.

"Don't settle for what's comfortable," she tells me.

I don't settle. I know what I love.

"I didn't come back because it's comfortable."

"That's not what I'm talking about. Hold out for the kind of guy that can bring you to tears when he looks into your eyes at a rehearsal dinner."

I sigh. "It took twenty-seven years for something like that to happen, Rose."

Her blue eyes glitter. "I have a feeling it's not going to take twenty-seven more."

"From your lips to the Big Guy's ears," I tell her.

"Promise. We've all been praying on your behalf."

It's good to hear. Maybe with all that silent talking, He'll finally listen.

xXxXx

Alec rushes ahead as we make our way to the waiting car so he can open the door for me.

"Your chariot, my lady." He bows a little and winks.

I roll my eyes. "And you call me a dork," I tell him as I throw my guitar into the back seat.

"Ow!"

_What the hell?_

"Alec, did you get me a talking car?"

A head peeks out of the open door. Emily Young smiles up at me. "Your manager got you a friend." She shoots a pitying look Alec's way. "Next time, spring for it and get my girl a talking car too."

"Oh my God!" I squeal.

Emily reaches her hand out and pulls me into the backseat, then into a huge hug.

"How are you even here?" I ask. "I had no freakin' clue you were in New York."

"I wasn't. This guy convinced me to fly out." She nods to Alec. He grins as he looks out the window.

I nudge him with my shoulder. "You did this?" The tops of Alec's cheeks pink.

Emily starts chattering away about the new material she's recording back in Los Angeles. I tell her about the shows I have lined up in New York. Alec joins in, explaining how he was against my idea at first, but how it seemed more right as time went on. Emily agrees.

"You can take the girl out of Brooklyn, but you can't take Brooklyn out of the girl, you know?" She chuckles.

Alec shakes his head. "There's a new limit to how much I can take the girl out of Brooklyn. Bella's orders."

"Ordering people around. Look at you!" Emily shoves me playfully. "Next thing you know you'll be demanding Cristal and caviar."

"More like craft beer and cookies," Alec offers. I've got to give it to the guy, he definitely knows me.

I look between Alec and Emily, then out the windows to Gravesend Bay on one side of the car, and tall Brooklyn highrises on the other. My hometown. My closest friends. Heading to my show in Brooklyn.

This _should_ be perfect. It almost is.

But there's still something missing. _Someone_.

Avoiding his existence hasn't worked. Banning my family from talking about him might have spared me some pain, but it was like plastering a band-aid over an open wound.

Maybe it's been long enough. Maybe if Alice tells me about the good Edward's doing in the world, I can finally accept that he made all the difference in my life and leave it at that. Maybe I could even let him know. Not in person, of course. If I saw him in person, I know what I'd say. The words would still come out the same.

_I love you. You're the best thing to ever happen to me._

I try to banish the thought from my brain. It's probably safer to write him a letter. Maybe then I can accept that I've got it from here.

This Bars in Brooklyn tour is proof. My new home is proof. My relationship with my family is too.

I've worked hard to fill up the huge hole where my happiness should live.

Eventually, I'll stop feeling like something's missing. _Right_?

I have everything a girl could want.

Emily and Alec each sling an arm over a shoulder. Emily ruffles my hair, Alec brushes a stray blade of grass from my shirt.

_Dear God, Why do I still feel wrong when everything around me is right? I've put in the work. I've even had fucking faith. I've been pretty chill about You not answering and shit, but just this one time, I could really use a word or two that I'm on the right path. Amen_

xXxXx

At Freddy's, the back room's empty except for a star-struck server and a sound guy. Emily tries to lie low with a glass of whiskey while I fidget with the mic stand, fighting back nerves. New York crowds can be tough. With a stripped down set in a tiny space like this, there's no covering if I fuck up.

_Shit._

Woulda been helpful if I thought about that a few months back. I'm fucking brilliant.

As I'm debating about whether or not I can back out, Alec materializes in front of the stage and hands me a glass of something amber.

I arch an eyebrow.

"Drink up, you're nervous."

I take a whiff and wrinkle my nose. It's been a while since I've had a scotch.

"You'd rather have herbal tea, wouldn't you?"

"Does it make me an old lady if I say yes?"

Alec smirks. "It makes you a more reliable lady. Makes my job easier. Would you settle for black tea?"

I make a face. He laughs. "You got this, B."

Emily raises her glass from across the room and I take a tiny sip. The alcohol burns on the way down.

"Remind me exactly what I've got?" I ask Alec as I choke down the drink.

"Well, for one, you've got a mic check," the sound guy says.

With another sip it's easier to think about the speakers than what I've got or what I'm missing. Another sip and I try a few bars of my newest song. A few more gulps and I'm chatting with the manager, Chris, in the back hall as the first few people filter in.

"You know this is nuts, right?" Chris asks. "The last big act here was Blue Oyster Cult, like before you and I were born."

At least he's not comparing me to Janis Joplin. Chris and I talk about the musicians they've had at Freddy's - from local blues singers, to neighborhood bands. The kind of people I'm more likely to meet on a barstool out front, the kind of people I compare myself to.

Before I know it, he's checking his watch. Then he's onstage telling a cheering crowd how nervous he was having me here.

"_I didn't know what to expect. What the fuck, you know? Freddy's Bar? Bella Swan_?"

The audience laughs. Someone whistles.

"_But then I spent the last twenty minutes talking to her, and she's not as scary as I thought. I knew she was talented, but she's also down to fucking earth, and fucking funny, and knows her fucking shit about Brooklyn-based musicians. So, without further ado, let's give a warm Freddy's welcome to Bella fucking Swan!_"

The enthusiastic applause from the little audience reminds me of the last time I sang in Brooklyn at Angela's rehearsal dinner. Everyone's going wild as they clap, stomp, and shout my name. As I step out onto the tiny stage, the audience explodes. Chris hops off the stage and takes a seat up front with some friends.

I try shading my eyes because the stage lights are blinding, but all I can see is a bunch of silhouettes and a bright red exit sign. It's too warm. The room's overcrowded with stylish hipsters. I feel penned in on stage.

It's a lot like my first paid gig back in Sheepshead Bay.

"Hey, Brooklyn! How's it going?" I ask.

"Sing Lost in Love!" someone shouts back.

Everyone laughs. I stop what I'm doing and roll my eyes dramatically. The crowd chuckles some more.

"Now that that's out of the way, how about we get right to it?" I launch into the first song I played all those years ago in Sheepshead Bay. The crowd goes nuts. My set list goes out the window. Riding the momentum, I slip into whatever feels right. I take the whole stage and have fun with it. I take another drink and even have fun with that too.

I walk to the edge to give the guys at Chris' table some shit, low-key insulting them when I ask if they're from Williamsburg. The lights aren't as bright here. I strum a few notes as I look out at the crowd. There are lots of tatts and t-shirts, a few random flannels, but plenty of skin since it's August.

I don't see Rose. There's no sign of Emmett. But toward the very back, along the bar, I spot a broad chest and an Avengers t-shirt.

I blink.

I think my heart stops beating.

It's Edward.

Any doubt about who it is disappears when I spot Emily practically jumping, pointing in his direction.

_Edward._

He's as hot as the first day I saw him in my parent's dining room.

He's as attentive as the night he watched me at Angela's rehearsal dinner.

It's so much more than that though.

He's what's missing.

With him here, for the first time, everything feels right. It feels one hundred percent, abso-fucking-lutely right.

I take another sip.

I glance at the ceiling.

_Finally fucking answering me, huh?_

With another look in his direction, I'm warm all over.

I feel certain.

I'll take Edward however I can get him - as a penpal, as a priest, as a friend. I'm not going to let him get away.

God knows what I'm going to say to Edward when I get the chance, and He put him here in the bar with me anyway.

_I love you. You're the best thing to ever happen to me. _

Maybe it's because Alice told me Edward's in a good place. Maybe it's because seeing him from across the room, he looks so fuckin' fine. Maybe it's because I'm a little insane. A year ago, I was sure it would be wrong to say those words. Tonight I know it's right.

It doesn't make any sense.

I look up at the ceiling one more time.

_You're definitely weird, but I'm gonna trust You._

_This one's for you, Big Guy. _

I start playing a favorite of my dad's - an old George Michael song.

* * *

**EDWARD:**

The last time I was in the same room with Bella, she was saying goodbye. She said to go build my tower. She asked me not to get in touch.

Tonight feels like I'm seeing her for the first time. I'm nervous and excited, my heart is pounding inside my chest.

_And tonight there's no commitment to God standing between us. _

Bella wanted me to build my tower. I can't finish it without her.

I haven't called or texted. Being here doesn't technically break my promise. I'm doing what she's asked.

She still did the right thing, leaving Sheepshead Bay last year. She's more confident now, more charismatic. Her tongue and cheek rendition of _Faith _has the bar roaring with laughter. Her happiness is infectious. Everyone's on their feet. Emily almost gets me to dance.

Watching her is like being backstage at the Bowery, or sneaking a smoke in her parents' backyard. It's like sharing a chaise, looking out at the ocean, or stopping for a kiss in the middle of a storm.

Like holding each other on the dance floor and not caring who sees.

It's how she used to look at me.

I'd give anything for her to look at me like that again.

I think about what Alice said. _She misses you_.

And Emmett's note. _It's been long enough. _

He could have been a little more specific. Long enough for what? Long enough, go watch her sing? Long enough, go talk to her? Long enough, can we all say your names around each other without it being weird?

Long enough, maybe you two can be friends now? Or _long enough, tell you love her again and maybe this time it'll be different?_

"Fuck."

I run a hand through my hair. It's smaller inside Freddy's Bar than I thought it would be. I'm as far away from the stage as I could get, but she's right fucking there. I could probably call out her name and she'd hear me.

And damn, she's still so fucking beautiful. Still wearing a stripe of color in her hair. Tonight it's red. Still managing to make old t-shirts look sexy. She's still so much the same but so different too.

I know I should stay out of her way, but I'm dying to get closer. To stare into her eyes for the rest of the night.

And probably freak her the fuck out. Yeah, not going to do it.

I take a swig of my beer and try to calm down.

Bella takes a break to interact with the crowd. She tells a self-deprecating story about the last time she was at Freddy's. People laugh. Bella does too. I'm busy remembering the way it felt when she would confide her stories in me - during confession, on the subway, _in bed._

Now she's confessing, again, about drinking too much, about getting the boot from one of the guys sitting at that front row table. He points to himself, pretending to act shocked.

"Yeah you," she says. "Just picture all this." She holds her arms out to the sides. "A little more wasted, a lot less famous."

The guys at the table lose it. They give their friend all kinds of shit. He couldn't care less, he's enamored. How can I blame him?

Bella introduces a new song. I pull my phone out.

I start to text Emmett to ask him what the fuck he was thinking when someone gives me a nudge.

"Hey, aren't you Bella's friend?"

I look over to the woman nearly and choke on my drink. "Emily. Shit. Hi."

She laughs. "Yeah, you're the _sort of _taken one. Edward, right?"

"No. I mean yeah, Edward but, no, not taken. Not anymore."

Christ.

I take another drink.

Emily arches an eyebrow and smirks. "I see."

I clear my throat. "How are you?"

"Fantastic now that I'm watching our girl up there." She tells me a story about a last minute invite to be here. How she was so rushed, she accidentally brought her dog with her on the plane. How a nice fan at the airport took care of her and got her a carrier. And how the concierge at her hotel has been watching him for hours. She's paying double what she'd pay a kennel but says it's worth it for 'our girl' up on stage.

It should probably feel weird, sitting next to Emily Young at Bella's gig, chatting like we're old friends, but she makes it easy. The way she refers to Bella as 'our girl' reminds me how Bella told me I'd fit in with her friends once. At the time it didn't seem possible.

Maybe she was right after all.

We settle in to hear Bella's next song. She makes it look effortless.

The guy at the front row table makes it look effortless too. Watching her, talking to his friends… talking to his friends about watching her.

"Interesting," Emily muses from beside me while she sips on her drink.

"What?"

"You," she says then looks toward the front of the room. "They're not her type, honey."

"Yeah?" I pick at the label of my beer. "Who is?"

She shrugs as I take a long sip. "You're the only person I've ever seen her into."

And I practically spit out my drink.

"She is on _fire _tonight, isn't she, Em?" A tall guy puts his arm around Emily. He looks far too excited about the woman up on stage to be no one. He also looks like he's trying very hard to come off as casual.

He's not casual.

"She sure is." Emily raises her glass and sways to the beat.

Her friend eyes me. "Didn't know you had a date tonight."

"I'm not her date." I nod at the stage as Bella begins her next song. A sexy hymn. _My _sexy hymn. "I'm here for her."

He laughs. "Well, aren't we all?"

Emily grins. "This one's a little different, Alec."

She's right. I _am _different. I'm the guy Bella wrote this fucking hymn for.

"He's got it bad," Emily tells her friend, _Alec_. He narrows his eyes at me. He looks like he's about to say something else when a group of men crowd around the bar, demanding drinks. One of them mentions Bella's name, another whistles. "I'd tap that!"

"Amen, dude!" They fist bump each other.

"Maybe you shouldn't bring God into it," I call out over the music.

He laughs at me. "What?"

"And maybe you should show a little more respect."

"Calm down," Alec says in a low voice. "I don't like it either, but they're just drunk. It's harmless."

I'm not entirely convinced. He reads me like a book. "And if they're not, I'll make sure they find the exit."

He looks stern, determined, dead serious. This time I believe him.

The group moves along to go find their seats and Alec claps me on the back.

"Tell you what," he says. "Come find me after the show. I'll introduce you."

He winks like he's doing me this huge favor. In a way, I guess he is.

Before I can say anything, Alec nods to Emily and walks away.

"I take it that's-"

"Bella's manager," Emily says. "Really good guy. He's got her back, ya know?"

I breathe a little easier. "That's good," I whisper more to myself than to Emily. Then I glance upward at the ceiling. _Thanks._

It's easy to get lost in Bella's music. She seems exhausted toward the end, but she looks so fucking happy. Exactly like the first and last time I saw her sing on stage. She was born to be under that spotlight.

I'm happy too. Watching her online is one thing. Being here with her, live, is intoxicating.

xXxXx

When Bella finishes up, the crowd erupts. We clap, we cheer.

She jogs over to her manager. He's beaming, proud, as she waves a hand, asking him for something.

I can hear her laughter from here.

He searches his pockets. Bella grabs a napkin off of a table then pulls her hair up into a messy bun.

Alec gesticulates as she writes something down in a hurry. He looks confused as she rolls the note up and hands it back to him.

It reminds me of when she used to do that with me.

Fuck.

"Sing _Lost in Love_!" someone shouts from a booth. Just about everyone in the bar howls with laughter. Instead of rolling her eyes this time, Bella blushes as she laughs along with the crowd.

She may as well be looking right at me.

As everyone starts chanting _Lost in Love _the bartender slides a napkin in front of me, then sets a drink on top of it.

"Sorry, I didn't order-"

"I know. Here." She hands me a tiny rolled up piece of napkin and walks away.

My heart stops as I stare at it for a few seconds. I peek over at Emily. She winks and orders another drink.

As I unfold the note, my stomach tightens. My face is on fire.

_Drink, you Godly son of a bitch._

My breath catches in the back of my throat. My eyes snap to the stage. This time, Bella really is staring right at me.

With that smile. _The _smile.

The one she's still saving just for me.

"Fuck."

And then… she starts to sing.

It's _Lost in Love_.

The words are the same, but the way she sings it is different.

It's sad but hopeful, heartbreaking and uplifting. The tempo is slower, but the meaning is deeper because of it.

Her voice gradually drops to a whisper, so when she pauses to take a breath, people are on the edge of their seats. You could hear a pin drop as we all wait.

As _I _wait. Like I used to at St. Mary's. In the confessional.

Moments pass. Seconds, hours, days… I'm not sure.

When she starts to sing again, she's staring at me again. My heart just about splits in two. It's like she's singing a secret. Our secret. But telling the world.

As she finishes the last chord, I wipe tears from the corners of my eyes. I try to breathe as I swallow the lump down in the back of my throat.

The crowd is completely silent, like they can't believe she just gave them this gift. Then cheering takes over.

People are clapping, going wild. It seems like just about everyone has recorded it. Phones are still up in the air. She hops off the stage. People swarm around her, but she pushes through the crowd, headed this way.

Headed for me.

I lose her for a minute in the sea of fans. Then she emerges and time stops.

She's here, standing right in front of me. Just like she never left.

Her eyes search mine, like maybe she's waiting for me to explain myself.

I take a deep breath.

"I had to see you."

"I love you."

"And I'm sorry if-" _Wait._ "What?"

"You're _sorry_?" She smirks. It's sexy as hell. "Drink, Father."

There's a challenge in her eyes, the same one she's always had. She takes a step closer, picks up the drink off the bar, and hands it to me.

I play the game. I can't fucking help myself. I never can when it comes to Bella.

I take a sip for courage, if nothing else. "Bella, I'm not-"

"What. The fuck. Was that genius!?" Alec pulls Bella into a hug. "That song! Jesus, I didn't even know you were working on it." He sets his hands on her shoulders and looks into her eyes. "It was fucking beautiful. You were amazing."

Bella slips away from her manager. "Alec, there's someone you have to meet. This is Edward." She takes a deep breath and looks steadily into my eyes. "He's the best thing to ever happen to me."

She takes a step closer. Close enough to touch. Close enough for me to see the little flecks of gold in her deep brown eyes.

"I, uh, I guess you've, um… already met?" Alec stammers, but Bella's not paying attention. I shouldn't be either. He doesn't matter.

She seems confused. "I thought you were in Rome."

"I was."

"I almost died when I saw you in the audience."

"I'm glad you didn't."

She bites her lip. "Christ, I love you. I know it's super inconvenient, but I can't _not _say it. Sorry."

She loves me. "It's not inconvenient." Not by a long shot.

My head spins.

"Emmett had me convinced he was going to make this big romantic gesture, but, yeah. It's you." She's breathless, nervous maybe, and can't take her eyes off of me.

"I can't believe it's you," she whispers.

"Emmett's got a lot of crazy ideas."

She loves me.

She did say it out loud, right?

Bella ducks her head. "Like getting me to confess my love to a priest. I don't even know what I'm doing right now. Sorry."

I hand my glass to her. "Drink."

Bella bursts out laughing. She steadies herself with a hand on my chest. I can't help but put a hand over hers. She looks up into my eyes and takes a long drink.

"Say it again?"

She swallows. "God fuckin' help me, but I love you."

"I love you too," I tell her even though it's difficult to breathe. What she said a minute ago hits me. "But I'm not-"

"A priest?" Alec asks.

"Ohhhh," Emily hums. "_Taken_."

"Fuck. I'm an idiot." Bella's expression falls. "I'm sorry. I'm really glad you were here."

"Drink," I tell her again.

I turn to Alec. "And I'm not a priest."

Bella pats my chest. "Don't worry, Alec's cool. He won't say anything."

"For what it's worth, he told me he's not taken anymore," Emily says. "I coulda' told you that a year ago, by the way."

"Priest or not, do you think you could be in the audience every night?" Alec asks. "She hasn't sung that song since-"

"Angela's rehearsal dinner," Bella and I finish for him.

I can't stop staring at her. She can't stop touching my chest. I don't mind at all. "I've got tickets for the rest of the week. I work most nights, but I'll be there whenever I can."

"Why are you working nights? Prayer groups? Bible studies?"

"I'm not a priest." I tuck some hair behind her ear. She shivers.

"You're not?"

"No. Say it again."

She seems stunned. "What?"

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you too." She seems more excited every time she says it.

"Fuck," we say together.

She rests her hand against my chest again. This time it's not nerves. This time it's closing the gap between us. It's a connection. The same one we've always had.

She pushes up onto her tiptoes. She whispers into my ear.

"Later?"

I close my eyes. Her breath is hot against my skin.

"Absolutely." I slide a hand along her waist.

She looks around.

Right. People.

Bella takes a small step back and I want to grab a hold of her, keep her close. That might make her uncomfortable so I suck it up and try to act normal.

"You're sure you're not a priest? Weren't you in Rome with Bishop Whitlock?"

"I was," I tell her, anxious to explain everything. "But then I figured out what was important to me."

Bella raises an eyebrow. She waits. She looks like she's holding her breath.

"There were so many things, Bella. And I'm dying to tell you about it, but I was still missing what was _most _important. I was still missing you."

She glances up at the ceiling, closes her eyes, and says something under her breath.

"What was that?"

Bella blushes. She bites her bottom lip. Suddenly she can't quite look me in the eye.

"Were you just…?"

She looks up at me with relief, satisfaction… bliss. "He finally fuckin' answered."

"You spoke to Him about us?"

"Silently. Maybe. A _few_ times." She looks slightly guilty, like maybe it was more than a few. Maybe a few dozen. A few hundred even.

Christ. I knew I prayed. Every day. It never crossed my mind she'd been praying for this too.

Bella giggles. "Edward, the look? Really?"

I take her hand. Maybe this should feel awkward. Me, Bella. Here. Finally. I haven't touched her in forever, but it feels comfortable, effortless.

"I've really missed this."

I'm suddenly aware Emily and Alec are trying very desperately not to stare at the two of us. The rest of the bar isn't trying quite as hard. A few people sneak some pics.

"Wanna get out of here?" I ask her. "Or maybe you'd rather stay…"

"Hey, Em?" Bella doesn't look away. "I know you just flew like three thousand miles."

"Oh my God, would you go already?" She squeezes Bella's arm then gives us both a playful push toward the exit.

Bella glances over her shoulder toward the stage.

"I've got it all under control," Alec says quietly. He gives a little wave before he heads for the stage, then turns around abruptly. "You have until Tuesday night. Then we're over in Bay Ridge. I'll text to confirm the car. No grass stains this time. Okay?"

As we leave, hand in hand, it feels pretty surreal.

I have her until Tuesday.

That's a start.

* * *

**A/N: Jo and I have gotten SO MANY PM's asking if we're okay. Okay is a funny word. We're out of our heads. We're juggling life during this pandemic. We're saying sorry on the regular and drinking accordingly. But we're also, thankfully, relatively healthy. So there's that. Thanks for asking. ;-)**

**You have more questions for us? Jo and I will doing our own version of Ask Me Anything via Zoom on September 20th. It's to support a dear fandom friend in her battle with covid-19. For more information on the Fandom 411 and how to join, please check in with us on Facebook. **

**(Pretend) God's blessed us with a fucking phenomenal team. _Thanks, God_ for SueBee, Kate hotteaforme, and ChrisAnn. We also thank Him for each of you and all your reviews. **

**God-willing, the next chapter will be up on Thursday. Until then... much love. **


	47. Chapter 44 Home

**Chapter 44. Home **

**Edward**

Hot summer air hits us when we step outside of Freddy's. The streets are crowded, but I feel like Bella and I are the only two people here, just like the last time I walked her home.

She takes my hand and our fingers weave like they were made for each other. We're quiet until Bella nudges me with her arm. She glances at my chest. "Still into the Avengers, huh? 'Whatever it takes'?"

I peek down at my shirt then over at Bella. "Whatever it takes. Say it again."

Her eyes meet mine. "I love you."

I will never get tired of hearing her say it.

I pull her hand up to my lips and kiss. It doesn't feel real but here she is. Here we are. "I didn't think I'd see you again, much less hear you say..."

Christ. She loves me.

"I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance." She looks down at our joined hands. "I thought you were onto bigger and better things."

"I am."

Bella quirks an eyebrow. She pokes my chest with a finger. "Is this a trick? You said you're not a priest. Are you a bishop? A cardinal?"

I laugh. "Guidance Counselor actually. Or, I will be some day. I'm back in school for now."

She looks me over and gives me an approving nod. "Yeah, I can see that."

Then she falls quiet.

"What are you thinking?"

"I have a million questions," she says. "But there's one thing I'm dying to ask first."

"Ask me anything."

Bella stops and faces me. She takes my other hand as she takes a breath. There's a blush in her cheeks as she exhales.

People pass, cars honk, music plays from random bars as we stand in the middle of the sidewalk. Everything else fades into the background. It's just us. The rest of the world doesn't exist.

She pushes some hair away from my forehead.

"Can I kiss you?"

Is she kidding? "Any fucking time you want."

At first, every touch is delicate and shy. Her lips brush against mine, her fingertips glide under the edge of my shirt. I slip my arms around her and pull her close. The soft sounds she makes drives the kiss deeper. It's like that very first kiss, back in the confessional. Except now we both know what we want. Now there's no reason we can't have it.

I pull away just enough. "Say it again," I whisper in her ear.

"I love you."

"Get a room!" a kid hollers as he walks by with a pack of friends.

Bella's eyes light up. "I already did." She clutches my hand in hers. "Want to see it?"

I laugh a little. "Do I want to see your room?"

"It's right down the street." She's breathless, dead serious, and excited. Her expression is something more than sexy. It's hopeful.

She's asking me about more than just coming back to her place.

She's asking me about coming back into her life.

"I'd like to see everything." I rake my eyes over her from head to toe and back.

Bella shivers when our eyes meet.

"You can't be cold."

She shakes her head and stares into my eyes. Her lips part, her head dips, she hooks her fingers through my belt loops, and pulls me toward her.

This time when we kiss, she doesn't ask. And I don't mind.

I savor having Bella in my arms again, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, even when we're just standing on a random sidewalk in the middle of Brooklyn. Then something across the street catches her attention.

"We're going to need provisions," Bella announces, suddenly determined.

She takes my hand and leads me to a bodega on the corner. We wander through narrow aisles as a skinny cat winds between our feet. Bella picks up a coconut water, a box of peppermint tea, some cookies, and after careful consideration, a papaya.

"Really?" I ask, eying the enormous piece of tropical fruit.

"You want some mangoes instead?"

I toy with some of her hair, unable to look directly into her eyes. "You taste better than either."

Bella picks up a protein smoothie and a pack of gum. "As long as we eat it first." She blushes as soon as she says it. It's fucking beautiful.

"You need anything?" she asks, looking between me and the check out.

I shake my head as I eye the pile of groceries she's balancing in her arms. I take some of it for her. "Just you."

"You've got me, buddy." Her smile could light up the entire block.

We dump the groceries onto the counter and Bella nods to the cashier. "And two of the Trojan Ultra Thin…" She glances my way. "Extra large, right?"

His eyes go wide. If it's possible for an entire body to blush, mine is doing it. "Large is fine."

"One of each?" He suggests, setting them both on the counter.

Bella giggles. I pull out my wallet.

"No more poverty, huh?"

I smile as I pull some bills out. "I've got this."

She puts her hand around my arm and squeezes my bicep. "Yeah, you do."

Outside, I don't know who's guiding who, but Bella ends up pressed against the brick wall of the bodega with my body flush against hers. One of her hands slips underneath my shirt and the other slides over my ass. I get the impression she doesn't want to hold out for a room.

Before that can happen, there's something I need to say. It's the right thing to do. Especially considering the boxes of condoms in the bag at our feet.

Bella sees it in my eyes. "What's wrong?"

I take her hand again as we start to walk. "I have a confession to make."

She smirks. "Don't you need a dark, dank box for that?"

"Only if you're Catholic."

"Wait. _What_?"

It's something else I need to explain… later. "I kissed a woman," I tell her before I can decide not to.

Bella's eyes go wide.

"Or... she kissed me," I add with the strangest feeling of deja vu. The first day we met, Bella confessed about an unwanted kiss. That confession is what started us on this whole journey. Once mine's out of the way, we can start over again.

She looks from our joined hands into my eyes. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but are you seeing someone?"

"No. No, nothing like that."

With a sigh of relief, her expression changes. She smiles, she crosses her arms. Basically, she mocks me. "Care to elaborate," she asks in a deep, holier-than-thou voice.

She remembers too.

"Not really," I tell her honestly. But I _am _confessing, so I also admit, "I was a little drunk."

Bella's eyes flash with anger. She looks like she's about to hunt June down. "Did she force herself on you?"

"No," I'm quick to tell her. June may have been thoughtless, but she definitely wasn't forceful.

Bella nods her head, clearly relieved. "I see." There's a playful glint in her eye when she tents her fingers in front of her like I've seen Jasper do a million times before.

"Your impression of him is uncanny."

She lets me take her hand again, and she leads me through the heart of Park Slope where it's less crowded. The sidewalks are much wider, but we still walk close. I'm not sure where we're heading. It doesn't matter. She could lead me anywhere and I'd let her.

Despite our teasing, she seems more guarded. I want to make sure she understands. "I didn't ask for it either. And I put a stop to it as soon as I realized what was happening..."

I struggle with what I'm trying to say.

"Why do I sense a 'but' in there somewhere, Edward?"

"But… bottom line... it made me realize you're the only one I want to kiss."

After saying it out loud, I'm lighter. It's easier to breathe.

She stops short and tugs at my hand so I'm facing her. "Then what are you waiting for?"

With another brush of my lips against hers, it's all forgotten.

Bella's breathless from the kiss but there's something else. She seems uneasy. "There's something I need to say too."

Fuck. I hope she's not about to tell me Alec kissed her. "You don't have to-"

"I'm so sorry."

"Drink?" I offer, but the look in her eyes tells me this isn't the time to be funny. "Bella you really don't have to -"

"It was never just fucking. I've regretted it ever since I said it. I'm so sorry."

I remember the sting of what she said in her parent's garage. It seems like nothing compared to the look on Bella's face now. I hate that she's been carrying guilt around all this time. "You knew what I needed more than I did."

"I never want to make you feel that way again. It's not like this with anyone else."

"We both needed to follow our paths. There's nothing to forgive."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise."

"Oh my God, I love you." She says it easy, effortlessly. And I'm addicted to three small words.

With our confessions out of the way, our next kiss is different. Her breath feels warmer, her lips feel softer. It's just us. No collar. No guilt. It's even better than I imagined it could be.

I slide a hand under her t-shirt. She gasps as my thumb grazes her lace covered breast.

The kiss deepens. Our tongues meet. She tastes like peppermint and whiskey and smells like fresh cut grass. I'm eager for more and so is Bella. She arches her back and grabs at my waist. She pulls me close.

"Now _you_ say it," she quietly pleads.

Like she needs to ask.

"I love you too."

"Fuck," she mumbles as her mouth crashes into mine.

The more I have, the more I need. Bella grabs a hold of my shoulders as I press her against the trunk of the nearest tree and kiss along her neck.

"Edward," she sighs. It's like the first time I heard her say my name, priesting out in my office at St. Mary's. Back then I thought temptation was my biggest fear. Now I know losing Bella is what scared me the most.

"You love me," I tell her, just to hear myself say it.

"I love you," she confirms, and suddenly every article of clothing is just in the way.

Christ.

"About that room?" I'm practically gasping for air.

Bella's face lights up like it's Christmas morning. She slips from between me and the tree. She reaches out and unlatches an iron gate. "We're home."

I look up. The house is huge, grand, three stories high with a little yard and tons of windows.

I glance down the street - Christ, my apartment's just on the other side of the park - then back to Bella.

"This is yours?"

She nods, excited.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since yesterday."

She tightens her grip on my hand and tugs me along as she runs up the steps. At the door, she fumbles with the lock like she's nervous.

"Hey," I whisper, pushing her hair from her face.

Bella jumps like I've stunned her and drops her keys. We both stoop to reach for them at the same time.

She giggles. She's blushing. It's beautiful.

"Everything okay?"

She places her hand over mine as we stand, then takes a deep breath.

"No biggie. This is just my dream come true." She goes up on tiptoe and places a peck on my lips. "Even rock stars get nervous sometimes."

..._and former priests. _

"There's nothing inside yet," she explains, as she turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open. She searches in the dark for a light switch. "Not much, anyway. I have some stuff coming, but-"

"Jesus," I interrupt. The house is fucking amazing. Original but modern, hardwood and high ceilings. There isn't much furniture, but I can picture it full of life. As I close the door behind me, the sound of the lock clicking echoes.

Bella turns to face me. "What do you think?"

I drop the groceries onto the floor.

"Fucking gorgeous."

"I know, right? It's-"

"I was talking about you. Say it again."

Her smile is radiant. "I love you. You're the best thing to ever happen to me. Alice told me to imagine this. I wanted you here and now you are and wait until you see the backyard…"

She's babbling, excited. I get it, but all I care about is her. Us. So before she can head toward the back of the house, I wrap an arm around her and pull her into a kiss.

The past year is suddenly worth it. All the heartache and hard decisions, second guessing my promise, wishing I could be with her, wondering if she wanted the same.

But she's fucking here now.

More important than any of it, she loves me.

Bella whimpers as her hands slide underneath my tee. Her fingers rest against my skin and it makes every part of my body come alive.

She tugs at my shirt and steps back as I pull it over my head. Her breath catches as she takes me in. She reaches a hand out and slides it along my stomach, up to my chest.

Her fingers trace the new words inked there.

_**Faith Hope Love**_

"The greatest of these is love," she hums. "First Corinthians."

"When I get small notes from you, I listen."

Her hand settles over my heart. Over my vows. "You kept them."

"You're not gonna run away this time are you?"

She looks up from my chest. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm home. Stay with me?"

"It's all I've wanted since the day we met."

I rest my hands on her shoulders, then let my fingers graze along her arms to her wrists. I play at the hem of her shirt and peek up into her eyes. "Is this okay?"

"You're really not a priest anymore?"

"Not a priest," I tell her.

"Then it would definitely be better if it was off."

A moment later her shirt falls to the floor. She reaches around her back then slips black lace straps from her shoulders. Her big, brown eyes never leave mine as her bra lands next to her shirt.

The look she gives me is humbling.

She trusts me. She wants this. I take a moment to thank God.

Then I take another moment to cup her breast.

Bella hisses as I rub a thumb over her nipple. "Thank _God_."

"Already did."

She waggles her eyebrows. "For my tits? Or for tonight?"

"For you."

Bella looks me over. Her fingers trace over my tatt before sweeping down to the waistband of my jeans. "Still so fucking hot," she says.

My cheeks light on fire. I want to close the space between us, but I notice I'm not the only one with new ink. My fingers slide to the last date over Bella's ribs. "Is that…?"

Now she's blushing too as her hand covers mine. "It's the day we met. My life hasn't been the same since."

I couldn't agree more. "Mine either."

Fuck. I knew I wanted something to remind me of her on my skin, something to tether me to her forever. I never thought she'd do the same.

Bella lifts an eyebrow and tugs at my belt loop with one hand while the other closes over the button of my jeans. "This okay?"

"Not the word I'd use… Say it again."

She flashes _the smile. _"You're getting greedy."

"Maybe," I tell her. "But I can't hear it enough."

"I love you, Edward. Now would you please let me get you naked?"

Before I know it, clothes are scattered all over the floor and she's in my arms. There's a dining room table not too far away.

She giggles as she wraps her legs around me and wriggles against my dick. "Still working out, I see."

_Christ._

Bella nips her way from my jaw to my collarbone as I set her down onto the table. Her thighs tighten around me. This might be over before it even begins.

"This is gonna be quick." I confess.

"And hard. Please?"

_Fuck_.

As much as I hate to untangle our limbs, I want to be inside her more. So I give her a quick kiss, then jog across the room and get the condoms.

She grabs the box from my hands and tears it open. "I haven't been with anyone since you."

"I don't want to be with anyone other than you. Ever."

Her eyelids flutter. Her body shudders. She looks me over. "You're mine?"

"Always."

"Amen," she says as she rolls the latex over my dick.

The feel of her hands on me again nearly pushes me over the edge. I try to breathe.

"Are you going to make me beg?" she asks.

I grin. "Always."

"Cap would never make a woman beg," she teases as she spreads her legs and leans back onto her hands.

"Cap would never fuck a woman on her dining room table," I counter. "Stark on the other hand..." I reach between her legs. She lets out a small moan.

"Here, right?"

She nods as she sinks back, beautiful and shameless. Her hips tilt as I rub small circles just where she likes it.

"I could worship you all night."

"Yes, please," she pants.

I press harder. "Say it again."

"I love you."

I slide a finger inside her. Then two. Her body flushes. She arches her back.

I circle her clit again with my thumb.

"Oh my God, I love you."

Christ. I caress her breast, then take her nipple into my mouth. I nip. I lick. I bite. She bucks beneath me.

"_Fuck_," she swears. "I fucking love you."

My fingers move deeper. She rocks her hips. I circle, I dip, I curse against her skin.

"I… fuck…. I… Edward, I…" Bella fists my hair. She writhes beneath me as her body clenches around my fingers.

Her chest shudders. "Fucking Christ."

I kiss the valley between her breasts, then the dates under her ribs. One particular date I kiss twice. Then three times. It's the day my path took an unexpected turn. I'll be thanking God for that day for the rest of my life.

"Edward," she breathes. I hum, moving lower. I press my lips to the little black cross over her hip.

She grasps at my shoulders, tugging me closer like she's desperate. "I need you up here. I need you inside me already."

She needs me.

As much as I need her.

And fuck if I don't want her as much as I love her.

God help me, there's no coming back from this.

The knowledge is overwhelming.

Before I know it, I grab her legs and pull her to the edge.

My eyes dip. I take her in. She's flawless. She's mine. "It's back on the table?"

Bella laughs and covers her face. "It better be," she says, peeking through her fingers.

I peel her hands away and pin them just over her head.

Seeing _the smile_ while she's under me like this. Skin on skin. Soul on soul. It's everything.

"I love you," I tell her.

Before she can say another word, I push into her. She gasps as my mouth covers hers and hell, I know it's going to be quick, so I do my best to give her what she wants.

I make it hard.

"_Fuck." _She digs her fingers into my biceps.

Her hips meet mine, thrust for thrust. "Jesus…. Christ_._"

The table scrapes against the floor. I wonder if it's gonna collapse.

"Mary… Mother of… Fucking God," she finishes. Then her eyes go wide. "Oh my God. Edward. Sorry."

She looks past me, up toward the ceiling and mumbles something breathlessly. "...no offense. _Amen_."

Fuck. "Did you just pray. While we're having sex?"

"Um."

"That's the sexiest… fucking thing... I've ever..." _Christ. _The table practically slams into the wall. "Seen."

My body shudders. I'm spent. Done. I collapse on top of her. Our breathing is heavy.

Then we laugh.

I push some hair from her face.

"Say it again?" I ask.

She bites her lip and bats her lashes. "Mary, mother of fucking-"

With a brush of my hand over the date on her ribs, she squeals with laughter. She tries to squirm out from under me but she can't. She's trapped beneath me.

Her hair is a mess, her eyes are shining. God, I love her. "Say the _other_ thing."

"I love you, Edward." I let her go as I bask in those words.

"I love you too… This look."

"What about it?" she wonders out loud.

"I could spend the rest of my life with you and it would never be enough."

"Works for me. I'm never letting go of you again."

"You sure?" I ask.

Her lips turn up in a half smile. She slides her hands around my waist, confident and sure. "Who do you think I got this big ass house for?"

It _is _a big house. Fucking huge. With more than a dining room table in it, hopefully. "Bella?"

"Mmm?"

"I can do better."

She hums. "Don't I know it."

She hops onto the floor and rakes her eyes over me. They linger on my dick. She raises an eyebrow. "Want to see the bedroom? Show me what you've got?"

Never have I ever wanted to run up a flight of stairs so fast. But I have something to take care of first.

"Give me a second?" I grab my jeans and pull my cell phone out.

Bella narrows her eyes. I hate to ignore her, even for a second, but this is kind of important.

I text Alice.

**Hey can you feed Picco?**

She texts back almost immediately. **OMG **

**Is that a yes?**

Bella's cell immediately starts to ring from across the room. When I look up from the screen, she's staring at me with one hand on her hip. And she's fucking sexy as hell, doing it naked.

_**DUH **_Alice finally texts back when Bella doesn't answer her phone.

"You sure you're not seeing anyone?"

"No, it's…" Instead of telling her, I pull up a photo of the kitten. "I have this cat…. It's-"

"Adorable!" Her hands fly to cover her mouth. "Oh my goodness! How? Why?"

I shrug. "One of Emmett's crazy ideas."

"He said you needed a _cat_?"

I try not to look anywhere in particular. Definitely not _there_. It's difficult when Bella's not wearing a stitch of clothing.

"Not _exactly_." My cheeks are burning. I'm sure they're red.

She gives me a look like she suspects something then shakes her head. "Very subtle." She laughs. "He wasn't wrong though."

"No, he wasn't. Still wanna show me your bedroom?"

She takes my hand and leads me up the stairs.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, many many _many_ THANKS to Sue for early morning sex talks and keeping Bella safe. THANKS also to Kate hotteaforme and ChrisAnn for their priceless pre-reading feedback, and THANKS to you all for loving these two crazy kids. We were giddy the reunion meant as much to you all as it did to us.  
**

***edit-add: ALSO (omg) thanks to the FB gang for ideas on the blasphemy!**

**We're _hoping _for a Monday posting next. Maybe Tuesday. Hope we see you there! **

**LOVE from us! **


	48. Chapter 45 Pentecost

**Chapter 45 Pentecost **

**Bella **

"Christ, I love you," Edward gasps. His head is thrown back on the pillow. His chest stutters as he breathes. I crawl up his body and collapse, bone tired but happy. Edward clamps an arm around my shoulders as I rest my head on his chest.

It's almost sunrise and we haven't gotten more than a few minutes of sleep. There wasn't nearly enough time to catch up and to kiss, to fill each other in and get each other off. To love him and let him love me back.

He loves me.

He _still _loves me.

After almost a year apart.

It's enough to make a girl feel faint.

"Was that okay?" I wonder out loud.

He chuckles. "Well, I could really use a smoke."

"I can do better," I promise.

"Is that even possible?"

"I'm hitting up Wikipedia the first chance I get."

Edward laughs a little under his breath as he kisses the top of my head. "Pretty sure Wikipedia's got nothing on you."

He trails a sleepy hand from my shoulder to my hip and hitches my leg over him so we're wrapped around one another.

Gray light bleeds into the bedroom, illuminating the new words inked over his chest. I trace my fingers over them.

**Faith Hope Love**

I've held onto all three this year. Faith, hope, and love brought me back to him. And he put them over his heart forever.

_Thanks, God. _

Edward's chest rises and falls slowly. His hand relaxes. His warm breath ruffles my hair, tickling my forehead. I can't believe he's sleeping in my bed, in my house. _Christ_. I never want him to leave.

Of course, I know he'll have to at some point. He told me about school and his job. He made a life for himself here in Brooklyn. While he'll still be helping people, it's something completely different than what he was doing a year ago. It's something that fits the person he wants to be. I want to be with that person for the rest of my life.

My heart hammers in my chest as I think about just how much I want it.

The future I hardly dared to imagine is so close. It's in my arms.

He's my dream come true.

Sunlight shines into my eyes. I glance across the room and see half open sliders. We forgot to close the door last night. I slip from Edward's arms and pluck the first shirt I find from my luggage.

As I step out onto the roof deck and thread my hands through the sleeves, I notice it's Edward's old clerical shirt. I kept it with me wherever I went this past year. Whenever I wore it, it helped me to believe in myself as much as he believed in me. Even so, it was a reminder of how we could never be together. This morning it's evidence of how much two people can change but still remain the same.

Edward told me about his trip to Italy and how he petitioned the Vatican, then followed it up with months of counseling. He told me about a kid who changed his outlook.

He gave it every chance he could. I wouldn't expect anything less from him. When he left the church, he did it on his own terms. Without looking back. He's the strongest, most principled man I know.

Overhead, night's fading. In front of me, trees from the park are silhouetted against a pink and orange sky. I imagine this little deck with a chaise like we had back at Manhattan Beach. As I lean against the railing, I imagine Edward and I wrapped in blankets and sipping tea, watching sunrises and sunsets. Talking about work. Trading kisses. Then taking it inside.

I imagine things I probably shouldn't, considering we've been back together for less than twenty-four hours.

I see the day he gets down on one knee and asks me to be his wife. I dream about the two of us sitting out here as I tell him I'm pregnant. In my mind, he looks from my face to my abdomen and back, then takes my hands in his and pulls me into a kiss. He offers up a silent prayer as tears well in his eyes.

I see myself, Edward, and our little girl in the hospital the day she's born as clearly as I see the morning sunrise. Remembering how reverent he was with Rose and Little Eddie, I imagine the same look in his eyes as he gazes at our daughter. As he sinks to his knees and thanks God for her health.

We'll spoil her to death. We'll take her on the road for summer tours. She'll be the only human being alive that loves Captain America just as much as she loves Iron Man.

She'll have Edward's eyes. She'll have my spirit. She'll have our love.

She can be a little hellion who breaks all the rules and gets into never ending trouble. Instead of judging, I'll accept her. Edward will always stand up for her. We'll love her, quirks and all.

Tears sting my eyes.

Strong arms wrap themselves around me. Edward kisses my neck.

"I was afraid you left," he murmurs. His voice is thick with sleep.

I turn around in the circle of his arms. My man's topless with a sheet wrapped around his waist. Rays of sunshine glint like gold in his messy morning hair. He could be some kind of disheveled Greek God.

"You strong, sexy, steadfast man. As long as you look this fine when you wake up, I may never leave this house. Ever."

Edward's eyes dip. He plays with the lapels of his old shirt then sneaks a look underneath. My body tingles under his inspection. "Still so fucking sexy in this."

I bite my lip. "Do you mind that I'm wearing it? Is this ok?"

"More than okay."

I toy suggestively with a button before I begin unfastening them one at a time. My eyes never leave his. "If you want it back, I could -"

With one button left holding the shirt closed, Edward rests his hand over mine.

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat. He glances at the yards on either side of us, trying to be nonchalant. "In the bedroom, maybe?"

"Still want a cigarette?"

"Fuck, yes."

I act all casual and calm as I pluck my purse off the ground, then pull out a pack of smokes. Inside I'm freaking out. I still can't believe this is real.

"What you need, when you need it, buddy." I wink, remembering the first time he offered me a light in my parents' backyard.

"I was so fucking nervous that night," he admits as I flick my lighter.

"Meanwhile, I was imagining you just like this." I look him over, head to toe. He's practically naked with a cigarette dangling from his lips. "My imagination's got nothing on you though."

Edward's cheeks go pink. It seems like he's trying not to smile. He might not be a priest anymore, but he still reacts the same to indecent thoughts.

"I was trying very hard not to imagine you like anything back then."

I nudge his shoulder with mine and quirk an eyebrow. "When was the first time you... _imagined_ me?"

Edward can't quite look me in the eye. "After Emily's show. It was inevitable." He twines his fingers with mine. "Holding your hand, drinking, dancing, and that fucking game."

"The game was your idea!"

"Don't I know it." He chuckles and passes me the cig. "You?"

I open his clerical shirt enough for the sun to kiss my latest tatt. Edward has a difficult time holding my gaze. I pray I don't spontaneously combust with the heat from his eyes. "The day we met," I confess. "I mean, _I _wasn't a priest. I imagined you _a lot_."

Edward smirks. He looks pretty pleased with himself. I'm pretty pleased with him too.

With us, to be exact.

He traces our date on my ribs with his thumb. I almost drop the cig as I convulse with laughter, but his strong hands grip me, keeping me steady. Like he did last night when he lifted me onto the kitchen island after we finished the papaya and the coconut water. Right before he spread my legs and lifted me to his lips.

Half exposed to Edward in the sunlight, my body trembles. My mind reels with recent memories - my legs thrown over his shoulders, my head thrown back, seeing stars through the kitchen window, and more when I closed my eyes.

While I'm lost in my thoughts, he takes me into his arms and leads us back against the cool brick of the house. We sink down to the ground and he pulls my legs over his lap.

His gaze travels from my ankles to my thighs, along the sliver of skin where his shirt is parted, then comes to rest on my lips.

"I never would have thought back then I'd be here, with you, like… this." Edward's voice is quiet, devout. It reminds me of all the times I heard him pray back at St. Mary's. It reminds me of the night he met me on the beach after Angela's rehearsal dinner. It reminds me that he loves me.

I hand him back the cigarette. "We're still smoking behind a house in Brooklyn. Minus the clothes."

His eyes smolder. "Can't say I miss the clothes."

Edward slides a hand underneath my shirt before pulling it closed. It's all I can do not to climb into his lap and shrug it off entirely.

"How about no clothes until Tuesday night?" I suggest.

"We wouldn't get anything done."

"We'd get a few things done."

Edward shrugs. For a former priest he looks practically wicked. "Practice _does_ make perfect."

"I like the sound of that."

Edward flicks the cigarette away as I straddle him. His hands slide around to my ass bringing my body flush with his. I wrap my arms around his neck as I press along the length of him, searching for friction, ready for more.

He closes his eyes and his forehead falls against mine. "Fuck."

"Sounds like a plan. Wanna head inside?"

Edward sighs. "There's nothing I want more, but I can't ask Alice to feed Picco indefinitely."

I can tell he's disappointed even as his arms tighten around me. I completely forgot about his kitten. His cat. His…

I slide back and forth. A reminder he's got a pussy here too.

"We can put on clothes long enough to bring Picco here," I offer. "I mean, I've always wanted a cat." The second the words are out of my mouth, my eyes fly open. In my mind, the two of us already share a life. In the real world, he has a life of his own.

Edward looks thoughtful. My anxiety builds as I wonder what in the world he's going to say.

"Did you really name a cat after Nick Fury?" he finally wonders out loud.

"_What_?" I huff. Then I remember that disaster from middle school. Angela came close to needing rabies shots. "How did you -?"

"Alice," we say together.

Edward and I can't help but laugh. Then I realize he's changed the subject. It would probably be easiest to let it go. I don't want to though. I want him. I hope he doesn't mind, but I'm never letting him go again.

I grip his shoulders and face him head on. "So, about Picco?"

"You already have my shirt. Now you want my cat?" His voice is serious, maybe a little hopeful. I could be imagining it though.

"I want _you_…" I take a deep breath as I look into his eyes. "I want you here with me. Picco would be a bonus."

"I mean, I've got classes and work. Other than that, I'm all yours."

"What about when you're not busy? Would you and Picco stay here? Live here? Please?"

Edward seems stunned. "You want me to live with you? Out of wedlock?"

"At first?" My voice is shaky, I'm practically trembling. "I know it's a lot for a former priest. I get it if it's too much, too soon."

With a strong hand and a swift tug, he pulls my body against his. He looks thrilled. He looks sure. He looks in love. "I think we've waited long enough, don't you?"

I'm so excited, for the first time in my life I'm completely speechless. Instead, I answer with my arms around his neck. My lips against his. My body sliding over him, showing him exactly how good this is about to get.

Just when I'm about to ask him if he wants to head back to bed, Edward bows his head.

"How would that work though?" His brow furrows. "You'll be travelling. Touring."

"Hey, musicians get mar…" The words die in my throat. I've gone from telling the man I love him, to getting him to move in with me, to almost asking him to marry me in less than a day. He's going to think I'm insane.

I take a deep breath. My chest presses against his. He's solid and steady beneath me. He hasn't gone anywhere yet. I try to take some comfort in that. "It would work however we want it to, Edward. I just want it to work with you."

He tucks some hair behind my ear. "I want it to work with you too."

I glance up at the cloudless blue sky. "_Thanks, God._"

"You're doing it out loud now?"

"Only on special occasions," I tease.

Edward laughs. "You're so fucking sexy when you pray. You know that?"

"It's not even a contest. You're sexy all the goddamned time."

"I love you."

"I'm glad. Since we'll be living together and all."

I brush my lips over his. I'm giddy. I haven't scared him off.

He slips his hands inside my shirt, glides them around my waist, and holds me like he thinks I'm the one who might be going somewhere. "Say it again?"

"_Happily._ I love you too, Edward."

I must have said it a million times since last night. I don't mind at all. I have a whole year of I love yous to make up for.

"So," Edward murmurs. He suddenly finds the buttons on his old clerical shirt extremely fascinating. "You're saying, _someday_… if I asked you anything…?"

My heart flutters. Jesus Christ, he heard what I said. He's still here because he wants it too.

I nod my head. I can't stop smiling.

"Someday sounds really good to me. I'm going to hold out for a ring though."

His eyes shine. "Whatever you want."

"A honeymoon in Italy. Show me all the stuff you told me about last night?"

"And Sunday dinners here each week?" he asks.

"Maybe every other week?" I hedge. My family is… a lot.

"After last night, we'll need a new table."

"Are you kidding?" I laugh. "We are _never_ getting rid of that table. But I think we might need to replace one of the legs."

"At least two."

"And definitely more chairs. There's my parents -"

"Jasper?" Edward asks, taking me by surprise. Of course he'd want Bishop Whitlock there, though. He's Edward's only family. If we get married, he'll be my family too.

"Jasper," I agree like it's no biggie having a freakin' bishop at Sunday dinner.

A smile lights up Edward's face.

"Oh! We can invite Alec and Emily when they're in town," I add. "And of course there's my sisters, their families. All of Rose's kids -"

"Our kids."

I gasp. "Kids?"

"I'm thinking six."

I practically choke on my laughter. When I wipe the tears from my eyes, Edward looks dead serious.

"Seven?" he asks.

There's no fucking way.

"One if you're lucky, buddy."

"At the very least Tony would need a brother."

"_Scarlet_ wouldn't mind being an only child."

"Scarlet?" His voice is damn near breathless. The look he gives me practically stops my heart. "You've thought about our kids?"

My cheeks burn. "_Kid_," I clarify.

He cups my face in his hand and runs his thumb over my cheek like he's rubbing the blush away. "You'll make a great mom"

"I might slip up and call you Father."

His lips turn up in a thoughtful smile. "I might not mind."

"Do you, um… still have the collar?"

"Do you miss it?" His hand ghosts over the spot where it used to be. "Because I'm sure I could find one somewhere."

"Think Bishop Whitlock would mind if we snuck into the confessional every now and then?"

"Jasper doesn't need to know if we're feeling the need for a confession. Or two."

I wriggle my hips. Edward's eyelids flutter. I bring my lips to his ear. "Would you settle for a bed instead of a dark, dank box?"

All at once we're standing, and the sheet falls to the ground as Edward lifts me into his arms. "As long as you're in it with me."

There's no doubt in my mind. I'm in it with Edward for life.

* * *

**Edward **

For the first time in over a year, my heart is settled.

For the first time since seeing Bella last night, my body is settled too. Relaxed. Sated.

The sun is brighter. It's got to be mid-morning, maybe later. I can't sleep.

Bella finally dozed off. She's breathing deep, curled up against my chest, fitting next to me perfectly. No way I'm waking her up.

I breathe her in and smile.

Her hair is still slightly damp. I want showers with her every day. I want more opportunities to worship every inch of her body. More opportunities to see her look at me the way she did when I wrapped a towel around my waist, just before she pulled it back off again.

Before her fingers teased me to life.

Before we nearly broke the claw foot tub.

We're gonna need to replace a lot of furniture in this house.

I trace invisible shapes against her arm and think about some of the things she said earlier.

About us.

She wants a ring. From me.

I see myself asking her someday soon. I see her saying yes. I see us telling her family and Charlie giving us his blessing.

I envision her walking down the aisle on her father's arm. Emmett stands beside me, elbowing me like he's reminding me the moment is real. And he's right; it's not a dream. She's there and she's fucking stunning.

I imagine Jasper marrying us, consecrating our vows. Reminding us of the sacrament we're committing ourselves to.

I think he'd do it. He'd say I owe him and he wouldn't be wrong.

I see our kids bursting through our bedroom door in the early morning, jumping on the bed, demanding we start our day.

I look down at Bella again, so relaxed in my arms.

If she hadn't walked into my life over a year ago, I never could have imagined having any of it.

Birthday parties.

Graduations.

Holidays.

Anniversaries.

Trips. To Italy. We could visit Marco. I could show him how being a _disadattato_ isn't so bad.

Fuck. I want all of it.

With her.

I know we need to talk about a lot of things. We need to discuss how our careers are going to affect that future we want. Like Bella said, we'll make it work. It means too much to both of us.

Her arm tightens around me, she tilts her head up and smiles.

"You're still here."

"Too late, you already invited me to stay. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank God." How the hell does she make thanking God so damn seductive?

Bella crawls up into my lap and looks down at me with pink cheeks, wild hair, and sleepy lids. My clerical shirt hangs open. "So fucking lucky," she mumbles.

I rest my hands on her hips. "I think you have that backwards."

"Nope. Luckiest girl in the world right here." Her hands are pressed against my chest as she leans down. Her hair is like a curtain around our faces.

I hum, happy. Satisfied beyond measure. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"We have forever to sleep. I have no idea _how,_ if you're going to be naked in bed next to me every night." She rocks her hips and I'm already half hard.

"I have no idea how we're going to keep enough condoms stocked."

"We'll have to order in bulk. Or I'll go on the pill until we…" Bella lets her hair fall over her face instead of finishing her thought.

I think I know what she was about to say. And fuck, with Bella straddling me naked, thinking about marriage, looking down at me like she wants it just as much as I do. It makes me want her more than ever. In more ways than I can count.

"I can't control myself when I'm with you."

She peeks down between us. "If this is my fault, I take all the blame."

I thrust my hips and hiss as Bella slides over my dick. "I can give you your penance if you want."

She giggles. "Yes, give it to me, Edward. Please."

Her lips are so close. It's effortless to reach out and kiss them. Her mouth parts and our tongues meet. It's hard to fathom that I can kiss Bella any time, for the rest of our lives.

"You overwhelm me." I'm barely able to get the words out.

It's all too much.

It's everything.

"The feeling's mutual," she sighs.

"Say it again?" I ask her. Because it feels like an eternity since I've heard the words.

She holds my stare as she lifts her hips, and then lowers herself slowly, gradually. It's the best kind of agony.

"I love you."

She moves gently, purposefully, watching me, watching her.

"I love you too," I tell her.

Her body shivers as she closes her eyes. Her lips part. She lets go and lets her body take over.

"I missed... this spot." I trail a finger along the dip between her breasts.

Bella grins. "You mean… here?" She slides my hand over a nipple.

"No." I move it back. "Right here. Fucking beautiful." I drag my fingers to the dates. Our date. "Here too."

I pull her down into a kiss. My lips move along her jaw, her neck then to the spot behind her ear. "This one, too," I murmur, my lips pressed against her skin.

She hums.

"And this sound."

"And this?" she asks as she tilts her hips. It leaves me lightheaded.

"Christ. Yes. This." I grab her thighs. "I fucking love how you feel."

She kisses my neck. Her nipples graze my chest. "Here?"

My head falls back, my eyes shut.

"Yes." I'm barely able to answer.

Her legs tighten around me. Christ. Everything tightens.

"Here?" she rasps. It's so damn sexy.

"Fuck, Bella."

xXxXx

"You know we're gonna have to face the real world at some point," I muse as I stare up at the ceiling.

Not that I wouldn't be content staying in bed with Bella for as long as she wants, but we both have people waiting for us. Relying on us.

It is Sunday though. A day of rest.

_Although there hasn't been much resting going on_.

"Not yet?" Bella pleads. She wraps her arms around me like she's trying to hold me in bed.

She's right. Maybe tomorrow we worry about the real world.

"Twist my arm." I roll onto my side and kiss her collarbone, her shoulder. I nibble a little. She gives me a quick kiss then peers up at me and sighs blissfully.

"I know you're Team Stark, but you're reminding me a lot of Cap right now."

I can't say it's my favorite comparison. Bella giggles when she catches my expression.

"He can do it all day," she adds, wedging her knee between my legs.

"Debatable."

"This is a big deal, buddy. I love you even though you're Team Stark. I never thou-" Her eyes lock with mine. "_Wait._"

I try not to smile. "What?"

"You're Team Stark aren't you? Like TeamStark001?"

I suppress a chuckle. She was bound to figure it out, but I can't give in yet. What fun would that be?

"I've always been Team Stark, Bella. You know that." I try to act as seriously as I can.

"You fucker. It _was _you! Admit it. You were with me all along."

"I mean, I might have followed your career a little." I laugh. "You never mentioned social media."

Thankfully, Bella doesn't seem angry. If anything, she looks slightly embarrassed. "I must have been way easier to stalk than you were."

"You _stalked_ me?" My attempt to act offended fails miserably. Truth be told, I feel pretty pleased that she searched me out.

"You drove me insane." She playfully punches me in the arm. "What kind of guy has no social media presence at all? "

"I have a SoundCloud account."

Bella rolls her eyes.

I reach over and tuck some hair behind her ear. "You really looked for me?"

She blushes. "Do _not _type 'E' into my search bar, okay?"

"If you don't check my browser history, I won't check yours."

Bella lifts an eyebrow. An enormous smile lights up her face just before she jumps out of bed and makes a dash for the hallway.

I'm right behind her because I'd rather she didn't see the fifteen tabs I still have open, all about her.

She glances over her shoulder and shrieks as we run down the stairs.

Christ, she's fast.

The floorboards creak, our footsteps echo as we fly passed bedrooms for all the kids we'll have someday. She grabs ahold of the railing before she races down to the first floor.

Another flash of the future crosses my mind. My heart wants to burst right out of my chest at the thought of how different life with Bella already feels from the childhood I had.

There's always going to be laughter in this house.

Happiness. Music. Love. _God_.

All of it.

By the time I'm downstairs, Bella already has my phone in her hand.

I stop short when her eyes go wide at whatever's on my home screen. "Holy shit!"

She tosses me the phone and holds up her hands. "Nope, I'm definitely not ready for the real world yet."

"What's-" I glance down at the screen. "Fuck."

There are five texts from Emmett, three from Alice, and one from Marco.

_**Non sei un bugiardo **_

It's followed by a photo. Apparently one of the pics taken last night made its way around the internet.

Before my brain can register what that even means, there's a knock on the front door. Bella jumps away from the sound and bumps into me. She spins around and I catch her in my arms.

Bella's in my shirt. My _clerical _shirt. Just the fucking shirt. It's not even buttoned.

And I'm definitely naked.

We look like a couple of people that just went through two boxes of condoms in ten hours.

The knocking gets louder. I find my jeans and pull them on, then notice all the other articles of clothing we left all over the floor.

Christ.

The pounding becomes faster, harder. Kids laugh and…

"Is that Renee?" I whisper yell.

Bella's eyes flit over me and she grins. "Welcome to the family, buddy."

Fuck.

She gives me a quick kiss on the lips as she buttons her shirt.

I pull my t-shirt on. Then grab the rest of our clothes and toss them into the nearest closet as Bella heads for the front door.

"Ready?" she asks, checking in with me one last time.

"Nope." I smooth my shirt.

She laughs. "You might want to talk to your old boss real quick. Just to be on the safe side."

I close my eyes. _Dear Lord…_

Then she opens the door.

"Isabella, you were supposed to meet us for Mass. You're not getting out of Sunday dinner that easy, young lady." Renee is dressed up, carrying a huge pot that looks like it's filled with marinara sauce. It smells fucking delicious.

"Sorry, Mom. I was... _distracted_." Bella's eyes flash to me when she says it. I feel my cheeks warm.

"I called at least a dozen times. You could have been dead in a ditch! Are you too high and mighty for us now that you're a rock star?"

"I think I lost my phone."

"It might be down in the studio," I offer.

"No bra _and_ no pants?" Renee steps into the foyer and freezes when she sees me. Her mouth falls open. Her grocery bag slips from her shoulder and drops to the floor.

I run a hand through my hair then smile and wave. "Hi, Renee."

At first Bella's mother seems confused. Then critical. In the end, she lands on happy. Understanding. Her expression is just short of accepting.

"Hello, Father."

"It's just Edward now," I remind her with a grin. She nods.

"Right. _Edward_," she repeats. "Good to see you again. In my daughter's home. Looking so… _comfortable_."

Charlie is just behind his wife. He picks Bella up off the ground and hugs her tight. "I missed you, baby girl."

Then he sees me too.

"Charlie," I clear my throat. "Good to see you." I don't sound confident, even to myself. This isn't exactly how I thought we'd tell him we're a couple. But when Charlie grins at me, I see it in his face. For him it was only a matter of time. We had his blessing months ago.

He glances around the empty home. "Guess we're not watching the game today, huh?"

He looks like he's itching for a smoke. Maybe I'll meet him out back for one, later.

Emmett has to duck to get through the entryway with Liam on his shoulders. His eyes go wide when he sees Bella's outfit. He quickly diverts his attention to the graphic on my t-shirt. "Guess the show went well," he says with a wink.

"A big romantic gesture, huh?" Bella smirks as she glances between me and her brother-in-law. She punches him on the shoulder. "You big softie."

Two kids run past. One of them shouts, "Avengers assemble!"

Emmett's smallest daughter skips by with a friendly wave. "Hi, Edwood."

Rose is struggling with a platter in one hand, Eddie in the other. Bella snatches my godson up into her arms and tosses him in the air.

"Eddie!" she sings. "I missed you!"

Rose looks between Bella and me. Her face lights up. "_Finally_ both of his godparents are in the same room."

My eyes snap to Bella's. She's already staring my way. It never occurred to me, or her apparently, to ask who the other godparent is.

Her expression matches how I feel right now.

Surprised. Elated. Whole-heartedly committed to the child she's holding.

"Yeah, just like that," Rose whispers before she snaps a quick picture of the three of us.

She wraps an arm around Bella's shoulders. "I told you to wait for that look."

"You could have told me it was going to be last night!"

"Didn't know he'd work that fast." Emmett snorts. "Guy doesn't even know what a date is, how was I supposed to know he'd take you home, and-"

He catches the look on Rose's face and shuts up immediately.

_Thank God._

"We couldn't talk Mom out of this," Rose explains under her breath. "Em and I thought it would be easier with all of us."

"All of us?" Bella asks, glancing over Rose's shoulder toward the front door.

"Hey, Bella," Charlie calls out from the dining room. "Did you notice the floors in here are all scratched up?"

Renee sets her pot down and the table wobbles. "And the legs on this table look broken."

"Let me get that, Renee." I take the bowl and glance over at Bella as I head into the kitchen. She's laughing like she's enjoying this.

I might be enjoying it too.

On my way back to the dining room, I nearly collide with Angela. She's got a small baby in one arm and a dish in the other.

I take the food from her as a well-dressed man I've never seen before walks in behind her. He's got bags slung over his shoulders like a pack mule while balancing a pile of Tupperware containers in his arms.

Angela beams. "Father…" She giggles and shakes her head. "_Edward_, this is Eric."

As I help him unload, I shake his hand. Then I peek down at the beautiful little girl in front of me. "Hey there."

"And this is Isabelle." I take her small hand. She clutches her tiny fist around the tip of one of my fingers. She practically rolls her eyes at me, if that's even possible. She definitely takes after her aunt.

"She's got your eyes, Angela."

"And her smile," Eric says, staring hopelessly at Angela.

The guy's in love.

Bella rushes into the kitchen and dumps bags of paper plates, plasticware and paper towels onto the counter. She plucks Angela's daughter into her arms. "Izzie!"

She spins the little girl around. Izzie smiles huge and starts babbling, then kicks her little feet. It's like the two of them are having their own private babytalk conversation.

I can't stop staring at them. Bella's a natural. She clearly enjoys spending time with all of her nieces and nephews. I can easily see her holding our own daughter.

_Scarlet. _

Fuck. She's going to be the best mom of all time. I think I can convince her to have six. Or seven.

As Angela heads back into the dining room with Bella and the baby, Eric hesitates. He peeks around at the crowd like he's not sure he wants to jump back in.

_Nerves. _

I clap him on the shoulder. "Been there. Wish I could offer you a drink."

He grabs one of the bags and pulls a bottle of Maker's Mark out. "I heard whiskey was the way to this family's heart."

Yeah. He's gonna fit right in.

There's a nip at my ankles and I look down. Picco is attacking me like he's starved to death.

"I'll feed you in a-"

_Wait_.

"Why is Picco here?" I ask absolutely no one.

"He was lonely," Alice says. She's got Jane's hand in one of hers, Picco's things in the other. And she's beaming like she can barely contain herself.

"I see you did a little more than imagine it," she teases.

"Seems like I owe you a lot more than just a thanks." I take Picco's things from her and realize I'm never escaping this kitchen. "Hi, Jane."

Bella throws her arms around her sister from behind and squeezes tight. "It's like you saw the future," she says in Alice's ear.

"Or maybe you were just blind," Alice shoots back.

Picco works his way around everyone's feet. "You have an adorable… um, _kitten_," Jane says. Then she and Alice dissolve into a fit of giggles as they disappear into the front room to go find Angela.

Renee bustles into the kitchen with even more bags. She looks between Bella and me. "You have guests. Let me handle the food." She nods to the bottle of whiskey in my hand. "Bring a glass out for Charlie unless you want him taking apart the dining room table."

"Nope. On it," I tell her quickly. Then I grab some cups before Charlie gets any crazy ideas.

xXxXx

The aroma of Sunday dinner fills every corner of the house. People laugh and drink. It feels natural to be a part of it all, exactly how I imagined it would.

One of the babies lets out a high-pitched wail. Renee waves a hand as she picks up the unhappy infant.

"Emmett, I need you to go get the folding chairs from the van. Charles, I think Rose left her diaper bag in their car."

Emmett salutes and Charlie huffs, but they both head outside and do as they're told. It might not be Renee's house, but no one dares disobey her.

Bella grabs my hand and leans up against me. "You mind if I invite Emily and Alec? Emily's not usually in New York, and after everything we said this morning it just feels right."

It would be great to see Emily again, but… "_Alec_?"

"He's one of my best friends."

Of course she doesn't know.

"He loves you."

She lets out an abrupt laugh. "You're insane."

And then I realize... the way she looks at me. Even if he does, it doesn't matter.

"Say it again?" I ask her.

"I love you, you dork. You know, one of these days it's going to get old."

"Never." I tip her chin and kiss her lips.

"And you should invite Bishop Whitlock."

"I'm not even sure he's around." I try not to expect too much from the man. Sunday's are his busiest day of the week. But Bella wants him here. She wants to get to know him better. I'm overwhelmed. It's enough that I pull my cell phone out and text him.

xXxXx

Hours have gone by. It feels like forever since Bella and I had the house to ourselves.

Kids are everywhere, food is everywhere. People are sitting at the table, on the floor, on the stairs. There isn't a quiet spot in the entire place, but it's perfect just like this.

I quietly observe the unorthodox family that's welcomed me into their lives.

Who all just ate dinner at the table where I fucked Bella senseless last night.

_Christ_.

Thankfully, Rose and Renee are cleaning up. Charlie sits at the far end of the table. He's bouncing Eddie on his knee, discussing something very serious. I think I hear Bella's name mentioned.

Eddie was gracious enough to find Bella's jeans for her earlier. In the closet. She casually slipped them on like it was the most normal thing in the world, getting dressed in front of her entire family.

In the kitchen, Jane is taking Italian pastries out of bakery boxes and arranging them on a platter that Angela brought from home.

Emmett arm wrestles with Liam, who's mysteriously winning. Eric has calmed down after a few drinks. His hand rests gently on top of Angela's. She looks happier than I've ever seen her.

Alec is mansplaining the architectural importance of built-in bookshelves to Emily. Surprisingly, she's hanging onto every word he says.

When he showed up with Emily, he handed me a fist full of tickets for each of Bella's shows in Brooklyn, just to make sure the rest of her family could be there too.

He's a good guy. I'm glad Bella has someone like him in her corner.

I can hear McCarty children, squealing, giggling, calling out their favorite Avengers characters. One of them is telling the others Auntie Bella can be Captain Marvel.

I look around to see if she's heard them too. She wouldn't dare tell a small child no… unless they were forcing her to be Widow.

I don't see her but she can't be far. Not with her entire family here. _Our _entire family.

Everyone but Jasper.

I check my cell for the third time. I'm sure he's busy. I'm sure there's no way he's got time for a last minute, impromptu visit. I'm sure he's… standing in Bella's doorway just as a small gang of tiny Avengers burst out of the hallway closet, screaming "Hail Hydra!"

The smallest stops in front of the good bishop and holds up a lacy black bra for him to help her with.

The look of shock and embarrassment on his face is enough to make me laugh out loud.

_Welcome to the club, Jasper._

He seems confused. I quickly make my way over to him.

"Edward," he says. "What are you-"

When Bella comes flying down the stairs, it all clicks for him. "I see."

I hug him tighter than I expect. It feels like forever since I've seen him. "I thought you'd have too much going on to show up on a Sunday."

"You're more important than the deacons at St. Patrick's." Then he adds in a whisper, "Don't tell them though."

Bella skips the last two stairs and lands next to me. "Thanks so much for coming, Bishop. It wouldn't be the same without you."

Jasper nods once. "Thanks for having me."

He offers Bella a friendly handshake. At first she seems slightly hesitant and he seems more than awkward. Bella peeks up at me with love in her eyes, then seems to make a decision about my old friend and mentor.

"We don't shake hands in this family, Bishop." She pulls him into a warm hug and I am pretty sure Jasper's eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. Then his arms wrap around her and the two of them look like they've known each other their whole lives.

"Call me Jasper. Please."

Bella checks in with me to make sure she heard right. All I can do is grin like an idiot.

"Um, okay. _Jasper_."

"It's really good to see you," he says. "And Edward... I guess," he teases, looking over at me from the corner of his eye.

"Remember how I said God was weird?" Bella's eyes flick from Jasper, to the rest of her family, then back to him.

He looks like he's almost afraid to answer. "Yeah?"

Her hand glides around my waist. She holds me tight, like she's claiming me for herself. "He's also good. Don't you think?"

Before, touching Bella like this would have made me uncomfortable. Today I couldn't be more content.

Jasper opens his mouth to say something, but I think he might be at a loss for words.

Bella smiles the most beautiful smile. Then, relaxed and easy, she leaves the two of us standing there, awestruck.

Fuck. I love her. She's tenacious. Completely comfortable in her own skin... and apparently, my old clerical shirt.

She's got it knotted at her waist. The sleeves are rolled up. Jasper notices what she's wearing and raises an eyebrow.

I pretend I don't know what he's trying to say.

"Want a drink?" I ask instead.

He smiles, genuinely happy for us. "Yes. And then I want to hear all about this new job."

I remember the day I told him I'd be helping kids, the same way he used to help me.

I'd had a slight panic attack, wondering how he'd react to my leaving the church for a less God fearing path. The truth is, I had no reason to worry. He didn't blink an eye. He didn't tell me what he would have done or suggest more counseling. He simply embraced me.

He'll always be there for me. For whatever I need, whenever I need it.

Renee meets us in the dining room as I pour a drink for Jasper. "Bishop Whitlock. It's an honor to have you here."

Her eyes dart to Bella, then to Alice and Jane on the other side of the room. She seems slightly traumatized that he's here with all her less than perfect relatives, but Renee covers it up well. She gives the bishop a warm smile.

"You remember Renee, Jasper?" I place a hand on her shoulder, hoping it tells her everything will be okay.

"I do," he says as a girl runs by waving Bella's bra. He completely ignores it. Renee relaxes a tiny bit. "This is a lovely home. Did you just move in?"

"It's actually Bella's. My baby's moving back to Brooklyn." She's so happy she starts to babble. Renee never babbles. "All four of our girls are in one borough again. I thought the day would never come. Settled, _finally_."

"Such a blessing," Jasper agrees.

Renee's face lights up. "A blessing. What a lovely idea! Would you bless this house, Bishop? Bella could use all the help she could get. And I would be able to sleep better at night knowing it's..." she lowers her voice. "_Demon free_?"

Bella groans. "_Mom_."

I cover my mouth. It's probably not appropriate to laugh.

Jasper looks slightly amused at the mention of demons. Aside from that, I can see he's honored. I'm honored too. I never thought I'd have a home or a family. So I take a moment to offer a prayer of my own for this life He's gifted me.

"Alright then," he says decidedly. "One demon-free home, coming up."

Everyone gathers around the dining room as Jasper begins to pray. I lean against the doorway.

As natural as it is to blink or breathe, my attention is drawn to one person in particular.

Bella is the happiest I've ever seen her, surrounded by all the people she cares about most.

Her arms are linked in Alice's. Rose leans over and whispers something to her sisters. Bella ducks her head. Alice's face goes beet red. Angela covers her mouth as she snickers. Renee shoots them a disapproving look. Charlie kisses his wife's temple to calm her down.

Bella glances around the room at her family.

She sneaks a peek upward and smiles.

My heart bursts in two.

I've been watching her, loving her from afar, yearning to be close to her on plenty of occasions. But today I can walk over to her. I can wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close. I can kiss her and let everyone in this room know just how much I love her.

How much I'll always love her. Honor her. Cherish her.

I breathe easy and thank God for the past year. For all the decisions that were made. For all the pieces that fell into place to bring us to where we are today.

I specifically thank Him for the woman who walked into my confessional one day last summer with sarcasm in her voice and a chip on her shoulder.

With more love in her heart than she knew possible.

Enough to break down my carefully constructed walls.

Enough to make me realize who I was truly meant to be.

Enough to make me fall unabashedly in love and have faith that it was God's will.

Bella catches me worshiping her and flashes me _the smile. _She curls a finger inviting me over. I'm halfway to her when I realize I don't want to wait for someday, or even someday soon.

"Amen," Jasper says, low and reverent, followed by everyone else.

"Amen," Bella whispers, looking into my eyes.

Standing in front of her I'm suddenly nervous.

Fuck. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaky. My stomach is tight.

I rest my hands at her hips. She wraps her arms around my neck. She bites her lip.

That's all it takes. It's just us again. No one else is in the room.

I'm speechless.

But like so many times before, Bella seems to sense what I'm thinking.

She takes my hands. Squeezes them tight. Her eyes never leave mine as she says precisely what I need to hear.

"Ask me anything."

* * *

**A/N: Eight months ago we thought it would be fun to write a sexy, silly little story about a priest. Eight months later, here we are. We didn't know we'd be writing about the meaning of love and life and shit like that. Or that we'd spend countless hours on catholic websites. Who knew we could write homilies? We didn't know the world was about to fall apart and people would look forward to this fic updating as much as they did. We didn't know real, actual pastors and seminarians would be reading. **

**Thanks, God?**

**But even more than Edward's pretend former boss, we want to thank everyone who read, reviewed, lurked, rec'd, and loved these two like we do. **

**Thanks to Sue for her above and beyond beta skills. Thanks to ChrisAnn & Kate for pre-reading and giving us peace of mind. Thanks, Lizzie, for the fantastic banner and for all the pics you shared with us for so many chapters. Thanks to Monica/MoMo for her help with our Italian. Thanks to the blogs, websites, and FB groups that rec'd us. Thanks to the authors that mentioned us to their readers. Thanks to everyone who hung out in the **_**Dark, Dank Box**_ **with us.**

**Body of Christ, along with our whole crew has been nominated for Golden Onion Awards. Polls are open through 08.27.20. You can vote once a day. twifandomnews . com**

**Do you need more of us in your life? You can Ask us Anything on September 20th 7pm EST. It's for a good cause! Details are on our author page and in the Author's 411 Group on facebook.**

**Songs you should definitely listen to for this chapter:**

**For Bella: **_**First Day of My Life**_ **by Bright Eyes**

**For Edward: **_**Like Real People Do **_**by Hozier**

**Follow us and talk silently to the big guy. You never know when a BoC outtake, future-take, or an entirely new story might pop up in **_**your**_ **dark, dank, in-box. **

**Until then, stay safe. Amen.**


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